Implexity

Preditors & Editors

2010-01-30T18:00:00.004-05:00

The year-end polling results are now official, and once again I've finished in the Top 10 in both the Poet and Poem categories:

Thanks for your support!

Implexity

2009-09-28T21:00:00.002-04:00

Coming soon from my new self-publishing label, Purple Prosaic, a collection of my poetry entitled (of course) Implexity. It will be available as an ebook through Lulu, and in paperback through Amazon (CreateSpace). A hardcover collector edition will also be available for special order, which I'll happily sign.

Tentative release in mid-October 2009. Stay tuned!

Is it?

2009-08-18T21:30:00.009-04:00

Is it still called love
when familiarity turns
voice into white
noise,
when every opinion
is taken as criticism
and every compliment
as apology?

Is it still called
love
when support
is sought from sources
distant
that was once
breath's breadth
away?

Is it still
called love when scores
are kept and bottom
lines drawn in shifting sands,
when the sound
of one more promise
draws not hope
but fear?

Is it
still called love?

Is it?

* * *

wither (visually)

2009-02-24T09:00:00.002-05:00

A visual representation by my swirlfriend! I'm going to make a poster of it for my bedroom wall. :)

Edited to add: POSTER!

Two-Thirds

2009-02-16T08:00:00.008-05:00

Two-Thirds is now available as an ebook.

Below are the public comments received on Literotica, when the story was posted as part of its 2009 Valentine's Contest:

"Unbelievable"
01/21/09 by Anonymous
No, no, no, now I understand why you've been going around giving everyone a 5 score hoping that they'd give you one, too, Imp. What was that? That was your Valentine's Day story? Have you lost your mind? Don't you know what Valentine's Day is about? If I was someone who never heard of Valentine's Day and read your story to explain to me what Valentine's Day was about, I'd go buy a laptop and surf the net for porn. "What are you doing, Honey? You've been up in your room on your laptop surfing porn." "I'm celebrating Valentine's Day." You're punishment for submitting this story is that must skip a turn and cannot enter the next theme contest. "Unbelievable."

after the first flush
01/21/09 by Anonymous in South Africa
Bitter-sweet, and really nicely written. I wish there were more stories about what happens after happily-ever-after.

This is certainly well written.
01/21/09 by Anonymous
But what's the point? Where's the story? Nothing really happened. Nothing was resolved. Nothing changed these characters. It left me flat.

well written
01/21/09 by Anonymous in Texas
Phenomenally sad, and unfortunately completely plausible, but well-written. That marriage is already dead, waiting for the coroner/judge to make the pronouncement. -- KK in Texas
Well I liked it
01/21/09 by Anonymous in UK
I liked the writing. Love is sweet however it can turn sour. Kess could have done more to sweeten her cause. Liked the fact she still managed to get off (last paragraph) I like a girl with imagination; that's assuming good sex is 80% in the mind. Read some of you poems too...very good
Well written
01/21/09 by Mz_minx in UK
It made me a bit teary-eyed, I felt liek reaching out and giving Kess a huge hug. I agree with KK in Texas on the first part of their comment, but have to diasgree that the marriage is over. Sometimes communication can end up exactly what you need but the last thing you feel like doing - if Kess was a friend of mine I'd urge to try and discuss how she is feeling with her husband. Ah well, it's just a story and I'm rambling ;) Good luck in the contest too!
Horrifying story
01/21/09 by bruce22 in South America
But well written and er,worthy of our attention. Poor Tess, she should have pulled out a dildo and masturbated instead of drinking the liquor. ///two-thirds of what?
very artistic
01/21/09 by PositiveThinker
I must give you credit. This was a very artistic story and even though you didn't develop your characters as much as I feel the need to do with my stories, I received a lot of imagery from reading yours. Good luck in the contest.

Wonderful writing
01/21/09 by starrkers
You show so much in so few words. But I kind of feel it's cheating to call it a Valentine's story.

Unsatisfying
01/21/09 by PrincessErin
A sad story which was very well written. Valentine's Day doesn't have to be romantic.

I liked it...
01/21/09 by KillerRomance
Yes, I thought that is was rather REAL, and appropriate for the 21st century V-day. Good luck in the contest! <3>

Almost too true
01/21/09 by DG Hear
You wonder how many real relationships are like this. Sad but True. Good luck in the contest. DG

Another.
01/21/09 by TwoHOTFORU69 in USA
Another good story, but taking a different direction/liked it though as it was like the truth in so many marriages in the last 20 years or so.! Hope the Judges like it as much as I did. '5' and thanks.

Very well written
01/22/09 by Boxlicker101
and sad, but also realistic. I have to wonder why she married the guy in the first place if he has always been like that. Good luck in th contest.
a beautiful work.
01/22/09 by magicmouth69 in USA
Truly the story touches me. It speaks of something both tragic and real.
I don't think . . .
01/23/09 by Nirvanadragones
I've ever cried after reading a blow-job scene . . . So much emotion. An angle and perspective I am sure many can relate to. Thank you for writing it. It's much better than stereotypical Valentine's day melodrama.
dark story
01/24/09 by Anonymous in Canada
it speakes to too many failing/failed relationships. For such a short story it spoke volumes. Thank you for something atypical in this website. A wonderfully dark contrast to the usual.
cheating!
01/24/09 by Anonymous
This shouldn't be a contest submission. You fall into the cynical group that uses a brief mention to worm in for publicity. Also, the story is unbelievable because you give no light and shade - she is loving and wronged and he is just a porn-surfing shithead. So why is he there? As someone else said, there is no tension here because there is no progress - the end is the same as the beginning and, with the lack of development, why should we care?
Happens all too often
01/28/09 by Anonymous in USA
I was taken in by your read because it is all too familiar! Not only to me, but to other women as well. In the world of "corporate America lunch table talk with the girls", this is all too common & not often addressed. I applaud you! Adrraiya
Very sad
02/05/09 by Saucyminx in USA
and perfectly lovely. Thank you.

Brilliant
02/08/09 by past_perfect
Reality sucks sometimes (pun intended), and you manage to transport that feeling perfectly. Kudos, this is an excellent piece. Good luck in the contest.

Too Depressing
02/08/09 by DecadentAngel
Alessia, I normally enjoy your stories. However, this one just didn't do it for me. I guess part of it is that it doesn't fit my idea of a Valentine's story. I don't want to read about a failing marriage with mediocre sex for Valentine's day. I lived that enough in my own marriage. Of course, your writing is excellent as usual. I can't fault you for that at all. Had you followed the parameters of the contest, I would have scored you higher. As it is, you failed to meet the theme criteria.

beautifully sad...
02/11/09 by Chloewaits in canada
It was very poignant, and touching. I felt drawn in to her despair, and even hope. I thought you captured the ambivalence and conflicting desires beautifully. Great story

Preditors & Editors

2009-02-03T06:00:00.004-05:00

The year-end polling results are now official, and once again:

everybody's hero

Thanks for your support!

everybody's hero

2008-06-25T12:00:00.005-04:00

an errant knight, shining rogue
e'er ready with chivalric sinew
to shelter or defend or buoy
through flirtatious charm

a damsel wondering
wandered into his demesne
intrigued by the valor
of emotional pas d'armes

dwelling in his heart's caisteal
she now withers on the inside
waiting for what's available
only to those on the out

and she wonders
if she should wander
in search of a soul
upon which to lean

or summon the will to e'er stand
and watch with sorrowful pride
as he strives to be
everybody else's hero

~ ~ ~

Lovin' This!

2008-04-15T07:00:00.000-04:00

LISTEN!

Lefty McGee

2008-04-11T08:00:00.001-04:00

I'm really starting to believe this man breathes poetry. Here are two of his "blurts" from Literotica:

(1)

There was a momentary pause,
the phone rang but she missed it...

The opportunity cost of missing that call,
was the sound of his voice caressing her
in ways that seem gentle,
at times.
But there is a timbre to his voice
that vibrates her thoughts
and her body,
that mixes the pleasure of the moment
with the pain of separation.
Bittersweet melody of a memory
as his words guide her hands in ways
mostly sensual, defined as erotic,
and certainly not sensible,
she finds herself sensitive to the touch.

What could have, would have.
Perhaps the phone will ring again…

(2)

I know nothing of the world you two are sharing. The slow words about nothing as you speak more with silence and hidden smiles. The suffering of the touch that is almost but not quite there in every word. The hidden thoughts of despair when you are unable to speak, and relive old conversations to pass the time until the next call. And each laugh you hear is an epiphany of emotion, love, lust. Innocuous though the words may be, all too soon each thought borders or embraces decadence. There are no secrets, no unknown desires, no hidden agendas when you fulfill your wishes and meet in person. Just the silent sounds of clothing as it puddles on the floor, until the first gasps for air some hours later...

Like I said, I know nothing of the world you share. But I have heard...

~ ~ ~

I'm so honored to have some of his work in Coming Together.

30 Seconds

2008-02-03T08:00:00.000-05:00

One of the first stories I ever posted on Literotica. It's journal-style 1st/2nd person, but if you can forgive that, the rest is still decent ...

30 Seconds
© Alessia Brio

~ Friday evening, 9:00 p.m.

Our group is jovial, enjoying the camaraderie that typically characterizes such gatherings. There is plenty of laughter, occasionally interspersed with serious threads of conversation about pressing issues. We've been at the restaurant for a couple hours already, running the poor waiter ragged with our random orders for food and drink.

He can't figure us out. We're a diverse mix, and he wonders what we have in common. You can tell by the tentative way in which he approaches us.

You and I are seated across from one another in the semicircular corner booth. Currently, there are four at our table, including the two of us, although that number has fluctuated throughout the evening, further frazzling the waiter. Oh, well. It's his job. We'll make sure he gets a handsome tip.

The talk turns to movie favorites, but I'm not really listening. I'm watching you. I'm watching your mouth, your hands, and your eyes. I'm thoroughly enjoying thoughts of just what you could do to me – and, conversely, what I'd like to do to you.

You have intrigued me since the moment we met, several years ago. I feel this overwhelming desire to just be with you, in any context – in person or online, in dull committee meetings or lively social settings, in your thoughts or my dreams. It's an ache that I am powerless to resist. You excite me, incite me, invite me, delight me. I can't get enough.

~ Friday evening, 9:40 p.m.

One of our party is leaving – the one seated between us – and as you rise to let her pass, several others return. You sit back down and scoot around the bench to make room for the additions, which brings us together quite cozily. Our thighs are touching, and the contact makes me shiver.

For a few moments, I can focus on nothing beyond that delicious contact. It's too infrequent, and it's far, Far, FAR too chaste. Innocence aside, I know I will feel your leg against mine for quite some time after the contact is broken. You have that effect on me. I have vivid memories of every instance we have touched – casual hugs hello or goodbye, fingers touching inadvertently when passing the salt, shoulders rubbing in the cinema. It's all I have of you, in the physical sense, so I treasure these moments – and I want more.

Your voice brings me back to Earth, "Hey! What in the world are you thinking?"

"Sorry. Just daydreaming," I stammer, feeling as if my thoughts are on display for all to see.

"Must've been good. You're blushing," says the guy to my left, which results in a rather lively and risqué discussion of fantasies in general. I get a few tantalizing hints about your preferences in a lover, and I file them away. If and when I ever get the opportunity to get you off, I'll have a better idea how to thoroughly please you. I've a few ideas of my own, as well. I'm pretty sure you'll like them.

At one point, after realizing that we share a somewhat unusual desire, you throw your arm around me and tease, "Let's go get a room!" Mmmmmm. Had we been alone, I may very well have answered with quite a bit more enthusiasm than you were expecting. Instead I just grin at you, hoping that you can read the invitation in my eyes.

One of these days, I vow to myself, I'm going to get over my fear and tell you precisely what I want to do for/with/to you. Consequences be damned! You'll either respond in kind, or never speak to me again. Either way, this torture will end.

~ Friday evening, 10:55 p.m.

After another hour or so, things begin to break up. Damn! I hate the thought of separating. My senses are heightened by the prolonged contact, and I feel an intense pang as it is broken. There is just something so cosmically RIGHT when we're together – and it is amplified when we touch.

I don't want the evening to end, but we each have plans for early Saturday morning. We divvy up the tab, everyone tossing a couple twenties on the table and leaving it for the waiter to sort out. It's more than enough, undoubtedly, even with a generous tip. I would pay five times that much for the pleasure of sitting so close to you for a few more hours.

As the others peel away to their cars, you ask if I'd like to take a stroll through the park to clear our heads before driving. Of course, I'd say yes even if my head was not in need of clearing – just to be with you a while longer. As it stands, we've each had several drinks and neither of us is feeling any pain.

The park is virtually deserted at this time of night, although we pass a few couples holding hands or making out on the benches along the secluded path. We walk without speaking, but without any trace of the awkwardness that silence can sometimes bring. Occasionally, your hand brushes mine – and I want to grasp it.

~ Friday evening, 11:20 p.m.

"Tell me," you say, breaking the silence, "what you most want. Not for anyone else – just for yourself."

My inhibitions lulled by the spirits, I blurt, "I want to kiss you. And I want to touch you. And I want to taste you." Instantly, I am certain I've just thoroughly and irreparably fucked up our precious friendship.

Time stops. You are staring at me, seemingly stunned. I am paralyzed – like a deer in the headlights.

In the kind of slow motion you only see in movies, we draw closer to one another. The unmistakable recognition of shared passion passes between us, palpable and magnetic.

Our mouths meet as if they are made to be together. Our tongues dance. Our hands explore. Your low groan as my hands grab your ass is so incredibly enticing. Every nerve ending is alive.

"We can't do this," you say, pulling away slightly. You sound as if your head is trying to convince your heart – and not succeeding.

"I know. But please, don't wake me up just yet," I plead. "Let me dream for just 30 seconds – then we'll stop, okay?"

Your response is to pull me in for another exquisite kiss. Your hands move under my shirt. My nipples are aching for your touch and your teeth. I snake my hand into your pants and am swept away by your evident desire. We are so close to the edge. So close.

Somehow, as if a cosmic timer went off, we manage to stop. It takes a phenomenal pull to disengage, so strong is the magnetism. Without a word, we resume our journey along the path – both lost in our thoughts about what just transpired – both still at the heights of arousal.

~ Friday evening, 11:30 p.m.

I finally work up the nerve to speak. "Not to sound cliché, but how can anything that felt that right, be wrong? Do you feel guilty?"

"I know I should, but I don't – and that is disturbing in and of itself."

I had no response to that, as I am torn between my desire for you and my desire for you to be true to your ideals.

"I need to sort this out in my mind," you explain. "It's been there a very long time, but we've crossed a line this evening."

"I understand," I respond, and I really try to do so. With our bodies on fire, it's not easy for either of us. I know you would never intentionally hurt me, and I know you want me every bit as much as I want you.

"Before we go though," you add, wrapping your arms around me once more, "I need another 30 seconds."

~ ~ ~

Ah, the complexities of adulthood
10/12/04 By: [deleted user]
A story for adults. Subtle, sexy, alluring, perhaps even true?

Oh my gosh!
12/05/04 By: lalai
I felt I was there. Sexy! :)

This one is ...
12/07/04 By: foehn
*magnificent*
how about changing your user-name, now?

sorry, couldn't find anything higher than 100 ...

Intriguing and complex
02/12/05 By: BlackShanglan
I really enjoyed this story for reasons that to be honest, I can't entirely put my finger on. It's subtle, complex, and provoking. After a short "hmmm" period pondering the lack of concrete physical images, I found my puzzlement turning to grudging acceptance and then slowly to impressed appreciation. This is a story with a long, complex finish, to graft on some wine terminology - a story to be savored and rolled smoothly over the palate, letting its richness and depth really penetrate. Marvelous work.

30 seconds?
02/15/05 By: Anonymous
wow that was a damn good tale,
I agree magnificent, fabulous and ...
Impressive! I see a zen master write here
bows humbled, honored to read your words
hehehe >>> great story ...
I needed the muse

Provocative
02/16/05 By: neonlyte
My kind of story. Full of subtlty and promise, an aching desire powerful enough to tip the scales.

Well done.

I too agree.
02/16/05 By: Bridget69 in Canada
Such a deep, subtle tale of repressed urges, desire, anticipation and fleeting moments of intimacy. Loved it!

Good one imp.
03/01/05 By: rgraham666 in Canada
Such a nicely told tale of want and brief satisfaction.

Well done.

This nails it
03/23/05 By: Anonymous in Margaritaville
so much resonance here. So many things I identify with in the dangers they are contemplating. Wonderful. You are a dangerous and devine writer with way too many keys to so many of my locked doors.

You have written what I feel towards someone
04/19/06 By: Anonymous in USA
You have managed to capture my feelings towards a certain someone on paper! I loved your story, it really hits home! The person that I want and desire in my life is off-limits to me but I know (as does he) that we are perfect for each other.

Thank you for sharing!

Wow!
12/21/06 By: SimonBrooke in Scotland
That's just perfect. And so different from what I expected from the title. And, indeed, much, much sexier.

Here's to the Imp!

The mind is the sexiest organ...
03/09/07 By: amicus in Oregon
A most enjoyable foray into a writing device one might be tempted to experiment somewhere down the road. The introspective first person narrative, the fantasy over time, the dreams the imagination and then the long awaited event finally about to occur.

I do question where, in a couple places, you referred to him as 'you', which felt to mean like a shift to omniscient POV and stepped away from the first person.

And being a bit old fashioned and admitting it, I was a little put off by your ass grabbing and the hand down the pants so early in the relationship since you had been so reluctant to initiate contact prior to him sitting next to you and touching thighs.

Be that as it may, a thoughtful piece and well down and thoroughly enjoyable...thank you...

amicus...

~ ~ ~

Where

2008-01-28T15:00:00.000-05:00

And where are you
as I crumble;
as I teeter on this emotional
abyss?

Wait!
Don't answer.
That's not the important
question.

I doesn't matter where
you are.
What matters is where
you aren't.

So,
why aren't you with me?

~ ~ ~

* Apologies for the self-indulgent crap. I'm having a breakdown today, TYVM.

Sunday Mornings

2008-01-28T09:00:00.000-05:00

I sigh on Sunday
mornings, dawning clear
cold with realization
that my life
be not as it should
and my love
be not as it could

emptiness lies
where once lived trust
and armor guards
against its return
scars of bleeding hope
a constant ache
in my hollow whole

the shroud is heavy
yet it skins my wounds
and I wonder if ever
without it I'll walk
again

I awake with a start
and start with a sigh
crying not for what is felt
but feeling what is not
on Sunday mornings

~ ~ ~

Thank you!

2008-01-27T10:00:00.000-05:00

~ ~ ~

Preditors & Editors Polling

2008-01-01T00:00:00.000-05:00

The year-end polls are up, and yours truly is again nominated. Last year, both I and my poem Tapestry finished in the Top 10.

Please visit the site and cast your votes in the following categories:

Poet published in 2007...
Alessia Brio [ VOTE HERE ]

Poem published in 2007...
forked [ VOTE HERE ]

Thanks, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

~ ~ ~

Past Perfect

2007-12-31T00:00:00.002-05:00

Past Perfect was accepted for publication by Torquere Press and Clean Sheets. It also appears in Coming Together: With Pride.

* * *

December

2007-12-22T00:00:00.000-05:00

A poem I wrote for a December-themed contest on Literotica's Poetry Forum. It bombed there ... with a resounding *thud* Can you identify all of the December events it references?

Hark how the silver celled
slay balls ring
'round the rosy viral garland
white ribbons and yellow massacre
for whom the death tolls

an immaculate concept, imagine
there's no pearled harbor
full of tea or Bulged battle
as a creamed cigar flickers
in the menorah of velvet revolution

impeachy secession, schnapping the chain
reaction of a nuclear bus boycott
while a bull sits no more
and an ear hears naught
the screams over Lockerbie

brothers take flight, wrapped
in the twelve daze of candied caning
one Pole effected, another elected
and a mad monk sunk
in the river of impunity

press passed and Bhopal gassed
amnesty for the civilly warred
and freedom for the civilly whored
frequency spans the waves
wireless words celebrating

the son and the seven
the Sagittarian solstice
and the year's sunset
lest history disremember
December

~ ~ ~

EPPIE Finalists Announced!

2007-12-13T08:05:00.000-05:00

WOOT! Phaze in Verse is an EPPIE finalist in the Poetry category. I have half a dozen poems in this collection.

For the complete list of finalists, visit the EPIC site. (If that doesn't work, Emily Veinglory's posted the full list on the EREC blog.) Winners will be announced at EPICon in March. Hope to see you there!

forked

2007-12-09T18:00:00.001-05:00

so scream the choices, the choices
made with every breath
drawn
to hold and to having, hide
the depth, the breadth
of forever's façade

so scream the choices, while promises
made on whispered breath
echo heart's desire
to have and to holding, shout
with enough integrity
to love me out loud

~ ~ ~

a poster of this poem is available

~ ~ ~

CANDY!

2007-11-21T09:00:00.000-05:00

Work begins today on this collaborative effort ... as does the search for a publisher (ebook & print):

Stripped

2007-11-18T08:00:00.000-05:00

A gift I created last Christmas ...

Love Me Out Loud

2007-11-14T10:00:00.000-05:00

I don't know where else to put this ...

~ ~ ~

auricle

2007-11-11T12:00:00.000-05:00

I once fell in love with the heart of a poet
the systole of his verse
pushing through my mind
like emotional cock

I once desired the heart of a poet
the diastole of my dreams
aching for such devotion
to fill my whole

I once believed in the heart of a poet
until the arrhythmia of truth
revealed that his whispered words
echoed only in my hollow chambers

I now know that the heart of a poet
beating in secret silence
sucks blood hope from my soul
and life from my love

~ ~ ~

Legally Binding

2007-10-13T12:58:00.001-04:00

This is one of the first stories I ever posted at Literotica. I cringe at all the "to be" verbs, but it's nice to see how I've grown as a writer. ~ Imp

~ ~ ~

Legally Binding

Bruce wasn't quite sure how he had landed in his current predicament. However, he was quite sure he didn't like it. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Sunny, seventy-five degrees, light breeze. On days like today, he was supposed to be sailing on Lake Michigan with his lovely wife. Instead, he was literally shackled to the enormous antique desk in his basement home office – a cuff around his right ankle was connected to a similar cuff around the leg of his desk by a heavy six foot chain. He was captive – which, of course, was Tamara's intent.

There was a formidable stack of work to be done. Work that he'd put off, admittedly, for far too long. Legal briefs to finish. Cases to prepare. Depositions to review. Phone calls to return. Due to the past two weeks of gorgeous spring weather, coming on the heels of a brutal winter, the "to do" list had gotten rather lengthy.

Tamara, who also served as his business manager, was completely fed up with his procrastination. Being the one who answered the phone, she had to deal with all the irate clients. They'd call at all hours of the day and night. She was feeling the pressure, and now she was making sure Bruce felt it as well.

At first, Bruce was pissed. How DARE she? He had considered just watching television all day. Fix her wagon! There was a big screen TV on the other side of the room. However, that plan was quickly dashed when he discovered that Tamara had moved the remote control out of his reach. This was no spontaneous decision! She had apparently thought it through. Bruce's anger slowly morphed into a grudging admiration for his resourceful wife.

Well, nothing to do but buckle down and get busy. Bruce knew that when Tamara got that look in her eyes there was no changing her mind. He'd tried before, and although he believed himself to be extraordinarily persuasive, he'd failed miserably. There were no cracks in her armor! He had no doubt that she really meant it when she said he'd not be freed until the work was finished.

After four solid hours without a break, Bruce realized he was famished! Had he known what was in store, he'd have eaten a heartier breakfast. The coffee and toast were just not tiding him over, and his hunger was making concentration difficult.

As if she'd known just when he'd run out of steam, Tamara appeared with a lunch tray. One wimpy sandwich and a glass of water. Prisoner's rations. She wore shorts and a halter top, hair pulled back in a pony tail. From the grass stains on her knees, Bruce deduced that she'd been working in the garden. (Lawyers are good at that deduction stuff.) Her forehead, cheeks, and shoulders were pink from the sun, and she looked quite fetching. For a moment Bruce forgot his hunger as he admired his wife's curves.

In an instant, she was gone again. Bruce devoured the sandwich and downed the water. It was far from satisfying, but it did take the edge off so that he could once again concentrate on the work at hand. However, before long, he realized he needed a break of a different sort.

Bruce yelled. Waited. Yelled again. Waited. No response. Certainly Tamara wouldn't leave him there to piss in his pants. Would she?

Giving it one more try before he resorted to using the empty water glass, Bruce finally heard Tamara's footsteps on the stairs.

"What is it?" she demanded, sounding less than pleased to be summoned. She had apparently been in the shower, for she was dripping wet and wrapped only in a towel. (Another one of those brilliant lawyerly deductions.)

"I gotta go."

Evidently, she had not considered this development, for her expression softened somewhat and she paused briefly before responding.

"Oh. Um ... okay. I'll get the key, but once you've done your business, it's back to the desk. Promise?"

If anything about their relationship was set in stone, it was that promises were kept. To violate one would be the end of a sacred trust. It was something they'd agreed upon very, very early in their marriage. There was no crossing of fingers behind one's back in this household. No way, Jose.

"Yeah, I promise."

Tamara quickly fetched the key and knelt to release the cuff from his ankle. Of course, when she did so, Bruce got flashed. It was simply not possible to kneel while wearing only a towel and keep one's "assets" covered.

Instantly at attention, Bruce struggled to maintain his composure. He knew that any attempts at intimacy would be flatly denied. Absolutely no diversions would be permitted. There was no mercy in this court.

What was taking so long? Tamara fumbled with the lock, all the while making no move to adjust her towel. She had to realize the effect her exposure would be having. Was she intentionally teasing him? The jury was still out on that one.

Bruce couldn't see her face, so he couldn't be sure – but he didn't think she'd do that to him given that she knew how badly he needed to pee. However, until this morning, he'd have sworn she'd never chain him to his desk either. Oh, she'd threatened to do it many times, but that was just teasing. Or was it? This was a side of Tamara that Bruce had never seen.

After what seemed to be an excruciatingly long time, the cuff finally fell free, and Bruce hurriedly ducked into the lavatory. Not only did he really, really have to go ... but he was also determined not to give Tamara the satisfaction of seeing the effect she'd had on him.

Now, however, Bruce was having trouble calming down enough to pee. Damn it! She'd know why it was taking him so long. She might even be thinking that he was "relieving himself" in another way.

"Are you okay, darling?" came a decidedly wicked voice from the other side of the door. At that point, Bruce deduced (!) that Tamara had indeed "briefed" him ... and had done it exceedingly well.

Bruce tried to think the most unstimulating thoughts ... income taxes, oozing sores, flat tires, and Supreme Court justices. Gradually, his gallant soldier retreated, and he was able to empty his bladder.

Without looking directly at Tamara, Bruce stoically planted himself at the desk and extended his leg to be re-cuffed. Once again, Tamara knelt. Once again, she took her sweet time. Once again, the sleeper was awakened. Damn her! He didn't recall it taking her nearly as long the first time. Of course, the first time she was not wearing only a towel either. Be it ever so humble, that piece of white cotton was causing a time warp.

"Back to work!" she ordered as she rose and sauntered out of the room, paying absolutely no attention to his growing ... um ... predicament.

After contemplating rotting fish, Newt Gingrich, and road kill for the next 15-20 minutes, Bruce was once again able to focus on the work in need of completion. He put in a solid two hours' work before Tamara reappeared. Going over his accomplishments, she seemed rather impressed at the amount of work he'd completed, although she tried not to show it.

"I'm going out for a while," she announced. "Do you need anything before I leave?"

Yeah, Bruce thought, I need you kneeling in that towel again – a "cross examination," if you will. He nearly said it. It was on the tip of his tongue. However, from the look on Tamara's face, he deduced (!) that that would be the wrong thing to say.

Instead, he turned back to his work before his mouth landed him in trouble. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tamara leaving the room. He willed himself not to look. He really, really tried not to watch (okay, ogle) her backside. His will failed him, however, and Bruce's gaze was undeniably resting squarely on Tamara's "closing arguments" when she suddenly turned around.

Bruce quickly looked away, but he knew that Tamara had seen. She always knew when he was watching. Always.

After a short while, Bruce plunged back into his work. The next time he looked up, nearly four hours had passed, and the work was complete. Bruce was exhausted, but exhilarated. And, as if she had somehow known, Bruce heard Tamara's car pulling into the garage.

Waiting, rather impatiently, Bruce listened as she entered the house, put away some groceries, started a load of laundry, emptied the trash, and took another shower.

Finally, he heard her footfalls on the stairs.

"I'm finished," he proudly announced even before she came into view, a big grin on his face.

She turned the corner, carrying a large shopping bag and wearing nothing but a smile, and said, "Oh, no you're not!"

~ ~ ~

Awesome!
10/10/04 by Anonymous
So realistic ... and very funny. How about a sequel, now?

Very.... um, impressive!
10/13/04 by carsonshepherd
Nice job, clever and fun.

nice
10/15/04 by Anonymous in USA
Very nice. It is so pleasant to read a well crafted story in which typos and incorrect grammer do not intefere with the flow of the plot. You also have a delightful light sense of humor. This was just a lot of fun to read.

Legally Bound
11/05/04 by Anonymous in USA
What's next?

a fun little wordplay
06/27/05 by Belegon in Southern California
and the kind of hinting story where we do most of the "work" at the end...which is not always a bad thing *grin

Launch

2007-10-08T08:00:00.000-04:00

I'm watching the horizon for hot air balloons. It's the first year since 9-11 that the tiny, municipal airport has allowed the fall festival to launch from its lone ridge-top runway. My house sits atop an adjacent ridge to its north, mountaintop neighbors together greeting the dawn before it dips into the valleys where the mists now rise off the rivers and lakes.

Although no longer glowing with the fluorescence of spring's kiss, the foliage is still fully green. It now carries the dullness that precedes its shift into the autumnal palette: aged yet majestic in the face of its looming death, knowing that it will soon blaze in a spectacular display of dying glory. In a month, six weeks if the temperatures are mild and the winds calm, every branch will be naked and quivering.

I begin to see the arcs of the balloons peek above the trees, their bright colors a preview of the days to come, and I hear the woosh of a couple dozen fires echoing off the surrounding hillsides as they rise. The percussive symphony is rhythmic--yet random--and oddly comforting. It sings to my soul, "Rise!"

immortal

2007-10-05T20:00:00.000-04:00

indifference hovers
outside love's window
thirsting for my need
as potential again falls
to restless night

weakened by the weight
of unresolved want
i feel the undeniable lure
of its sweet promise

to care not of todays
hope not for tomorrows
ever free of hunger's ache
in the undead surrender
of a painless peace

~ ~ ~

Phaze in Verse

2007-09-16T15:00:00.000-04:00

Poetry has long been a short form method to story telling. Morals, epic tales, even desperate pleas for understanding have been recorded through the ages in verse. And yet, somewhere along the line of our technologically advancing society, it seems those small intimate pleasures are growing lost. Poetry is love, life, and feeling breathed into words. Our shared experiences, emotions, dreams… Today, we are pleased to present to you a fine collection of poetry. This is not just iambic pentameter or rhymed. It is not only free verse or measured. This is a comprehensive collection of a wide variety of tastes, styles, and passions. Just like our readers. There is a little bit of something for everyone.

Available now in both eBook ($5) and print ($10)!

Opus Organum

2007-09-02T09:00:00.000-04:00

Posted on the first anniversary of their wedding, this is a poem that Belegon & I created as a gift. (Click to enlarge ... and to listen.)

Secret Santa

2007-08-05T12:00:00.000-04:00

Found this little nugget while rummaging around in my bookmarks. It's from a Secret Santa challenge on the Author's Hangout forum at Literotica.

"What the fuck IS it?"

"Nipple clamps, silly!"

"Looks like jumper cables for Junior's Tonka truck."

"It'll be fun. Trust me."

"To connect one of my tits to one of yours?"

"I suppose that's one way to use 'em."

"Or should I connect yours to one another and lead you around by the chain?"

"That's another."

"What's the point?"

"The squeeze is the point."

"Sounds more like a leash to me."

"Okay. If you wanna think of it that way. Down, bitch!"

"Oh, get lost. I'm too old to learn new tricks."

"We'll see about that. Sit!"

"Watch it! I might bite."

"Not if I muzzle you."

"You wouldn't DARE!"

"Try me."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Damn straight. Now, are you gonna sit or not?"

"Alright already. I'm sitting."

"Roll over."

"Watch it, smart ass, or I'll play dead, too!"

"It won't be the first time."

"Where'd you get this thing, anyway?"

"Online."

"What else did you buy?"

"If you're a good bitch, I'll show you."

"Hey! That pinches."

"Duh."

"Now what? I look ridiculous."

"Perhaps some pictures for our Christmas cards?"

"Yeah, right."

"Hell, I don't know. I've never played with these things before."

"My tits? Of course you have."

"For a bright woman, you can be incredibly dense."

"Oh, bite me."

"Naw. Actually, I think I wanna play with Junior's Tonka truck."

quest

2007-08-04T19:30:00.000-04:00

wedged in the crevices of hope
longing for adoration
she throws herself in love's path
as if its proximity can complete
her, blind desperation

craving what others have
she seeks not
to destroy, but to lure
siren song to ego's ears
when… if…
she smells fulfillment

its source irrelevant,
shattered dreams litter
her landscape yet
she does not cede… will
not surrender the hunger

reaching for rainbows, she
goes down
swinging, trying too hard
and failing again to escape
her gravity

~ ~ ~

reading this
08/06/07 by Anonymous
is like many memories. i read it with a nice offbeat beat, and i certainly appreciate that! very good poem, ma'am. good to read you. curt

Poetry Forum
08/06/07 by wildsweetone in ~ New Zealand
i mentioned this submission in the New Poem Review thread in the Poetry Forum. please feel free to come along and join in with other poets. the 50% temperature rating is given so that it does not alter future temperature ratings. - wildsweetone

:)
08/08/07 by Fallenfromgrace
A good read, a great addition to the challenge :)

Nicely done.
08/13/07 by jomar
What Fallenfromgrace and anon said.

Wet Dreaming

2007-07-17T06:30:00.000-04:00

[AUTHORS' NOTE: The following is a collaboration between Salvor-Hardon and impressive (a/k/a "Imp"). They've come together to bring you a short he-said/she-said fantasy inspired by a forum avatar. Enjoy!]

~ ~ ~

I'm not a big fan of blind dates, but this one's not really "blind." We've e-known one another for years. Even so, it's astonishing how comfortable we are in one another's physical presence. The laughter is plentiful, and the flirting is so outrageous that with any other companion, I'd be inclined to wonder if he was just joking. With him, though, I know there's desire to back it up—which is just fine with me 'cause I've got my own store of it to reciprocate.

He picked a terrific restaurant. Upscale but not pretentious. Candlelight, sultry music, and long, blood red tablecloths. The atmosphere is almost as seductive as the company. He's wicked smart with a passionate imagination that makes me want to ride him into next week. Plus, he makes me feel like there's no one else in the room. I have his complete attention—and there's nothing hotter than the undivided attention of an intelligent, witty, creative, sexy man. I squirm a bit in my chair, eager to move things along.

Dinner was amazing, and the dessert tastes so incredibly sinful that I am immediately reminded of another oral fixation. I decide to turn things up a notch. I'm not known for my patience, after all.

~ ~ ~

So, we were at dinner, laughing and chatting, having a blast, and flirting like crazy. As the crème brûlée comes out for dessert, she takes a spoonful, looks over it, and says, "Are we just going to talk all night, or do you wanna go fuck?" She then licks the creamy treat in a very naughty, seductive fashion.

"I was thinking you'd start by blowing me under the table, just to really kick it out wild." I'm bluffing. Trying to see how far she will go. After another spoonful of brûlée, she slides under the table. Her hands are on my thighs, and I can feel her pulling the zipper down, pulling my cock out, and slowly, softly kissing its tip, swirling her tongue around the edges before sucking it in completely. Her tongue is firm against the underside, sliding back and forth as she goes up and down, one hand squeezing my balls. She's aggressive, almost hungry, and goes at it with vigor. It's no time at all before I am erupting, and she is sucking, draining it all out.

As she comes back up, licking her lips, she coos, "There. Now your next one should last a bit longer."

"CHECK, PLEASE!"

~ ~ ~

I think I shock him when I call his bluff and slide under the table, but I want to taste him far more than I want the crème brûlée. Seems his attention above the table is mirrored below it, because he's hard before I even get him unzipped. I adore the first taste of a new partner, and I savor him for a moment before taking his cock all the way into my mouth. For a split second, I wish we were in a private place, but then I realize that we have all night. This is just our appetizer, not our dessert.

He's remarkably quiet and still for someone so rock hard. Only the trembling tension in his thighs and an occasional soft gasp reveals how hard he's working to maintain composure. I hear the server return with the bill, and he grunts an acknowledgment.

My absence is noticed, and the server inquires, "Is everything okay with the lady's dessert?"

I seize that opportunity to pull him all the way to the back of my throat and swallow. He can't get any deeper. I hear his spoon drop onto the plate, and I chuckle inwardly.

"Fine," he squeaks, an octave higher than his normal speaking voice. Bringing it down in tone, he adds, "She j-just went to the... head."

"Very well, sir." I catch a hint of amusement in the server's voice. Mere seconds after I hear his footsteps moving away, a hand snakes beneath the tablecloth and grips my hair as crème—not brûlée, but warmed fraîche—fills my mouth.

~ ~ ~

Riding back to the hotel, we make out in the back of the cab, going at each other like teenagers. My hand is up her skirt, fingers rubbing the edges of her lips and teasing just between pussy and ass. We scurry through the lobby to the elevator and start tugging clothes off even as the doors begin closing.

My shirt is barely on my shoulders. Her blouse is held by only two buttons, lace bra exposed, but we don't care. We're kissing and groping and touching all the way down the hall to the door. The clothes come off almost instantly, and I carry her to the bed, tossing her there just before pushing my boxers off.

"Now it's my turn." I kiss her thighs, her mound, and begin eating, licking, teasing her with my mouth. I flick my tongue inside then pull back her hood to suck on her clit, drawing it in and pulling it with my lips, bobbing like she did earlier. Giving a sharp nip with my teeth on just the tip, she cries out. I kiss, lick, and flicker more ardently, feasting on her growing wetness.

~ ~ ~

The taxi ride is a sweet torment, and we restrain ourselves only enough to avoid arrest. We can't wait to get back to the room—our virgin room—our uncharted territory. I want to christen it and infest it with a sexual energy that later occupants will feel for years to come. They'll walk in and sense our pulse. Close their eyes and see his mouth on my sex, drinking me with an unquenchable enthusiasm. Smell the sweat of our fucking. We'll leave behind a raw, primal echo of our consummation.

Those thoughts dance through my mind as we pass through the hotel lobby, pawing at each other, oblivious to observation. My eyes are open, but my sight is obscured by a hunger for penetration. I can still feel his fingers assaulting my pussy, and it throbs for more. We're tugging at each other's clothes before he even gets the key card in the door.

He strips me as I strip him without regard for the preservation of the garments. When he's left in just his boxers, he sweeps me into his arms. I'm momentarily airborne as he deposits me on the bed with a growl. He hesitates only long enough to remove the last of his clothes and then dives between my legs. His tongue is hot and strong, and I feel my orgasm begin to bloom.

~ ~ ~

I wrap my arms around her thighs, holding her still as she begins to writhe. I draw the climax out of her, drinking it in as she cries out. She shivers, trembles, breathlessly moaning for more, and I push two fingers in along the bottom as I return my lips to the button beneath the hood. The second wave washes over her and she bucks upward, grinding against my face. I nip and suck on whatever skin I can catch between my lips.

I let her go, and kiss up her body to her lips, inhaling her breath as she tastes herself on me. The fire is still hot inside her eyes, glowing as I look at her. She rolls on top of me, straddling my hips and grabbing my shaft.

"Yeah, I think you're ready for round two now," she purrs as she lifts up, then slides down over me, slowly rocking back and forth, squeezing her PC muscles as she comes down.

~ ~ ~

As soon as I catch my breath, he crawls up my body and kisses me. The taste of pussy on a man's beard tops the list of my erotic triggers, even if it's my own. The need for more penetration eclipses all else, and I nudge him onto his back. As I climb on top and lower myself onto his delicious cock, I think about enjoying the essence of another woman from his face—about sucking his hot cum from her tits—about her rimming my ass while I ride him. I know just the woman, too. She's flying in from London next week, and I plan to share every raw detail of this experience with her while she licks my pussy.

Soon, though, coherent thought is no longer possible. My body takes over. His thumbs tease my clit, causing me to pick up my pace, to chase my orgasm. I shift from grinding to a more intense up-and-down motion, my thighs burning from the exertion and a sheen of sweat forming across my chest. I hit the burn, the line athletes cross that enables them to exceed physical limits. Adrenaline courses through my body, and I feel like I could ride him all night.

When his hands move to my tits, I come undone. My coordination falters from the additional stimulation, and I lose my rhythm. He flips me over in one smooth motion, never leaving my cunt, and commences fucking me. I try to wrap my arms around him, but he pins them to the bed over my head. I wrap my legs around him in lieu, pulling him into me, kicking his ass with my heels.

We're on a trajectory together, racing toward ecstasy, and he releases my hands to better brace himself, to drive harder and faster. My orgasm grows from deep inside, speeding across nerve endings and setting them on fire. I rake his back with my nails and dig them into his ass as the waves rock me, an unrecognizable voice coming from my mouth.

~ ~ ~

I hold her hips, thumbs rubbing along her mound and moving inward to stroke her clit each time she comes down. She moves harder, faster, less rocking and more pumping, crashing on my hips as she demands more and more. I reach up to capture her breasts in my hands, caressing and squeezing, thumbs brushing over nipples as she bounces wildly on top.

She throws her head, back, growing closer to climax, but then I pull her down on me, her body pressed to mine. I roll us over, pinning her to the bed with her hands above her head. We share deep, hungry, growling kisses, and I bite her throat as I begin my rhythm, slowly at first, sliding in and out, lifting upward on the backstroke to rub her cluster of nerves.

Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me into her, and I increase both force and pace. Neither of us can speak, merely gasping and groaning, words becoming meaningless as our minds reel in passion. She arches her back, teetering on the brink of orgasm once again, and I drive into her as if trying to break a dam to loose a flood of ecstasy. Nails dig into my back. She clutches and scratches and claws to pull me with her, dragging me into the torrent. When she reaches down and grabs my ass, piercing the skin with her nails, I can't hold back. I slam into her, my back, legs, hips arms—my whole body—flexing to push through her as I erupt once more.

We lay still next to each other, breathing heavily and smiling in that glow of fading bliss. I watch her body, the light pink blush that covers her head to toe, the way her breasts move as she breathes, the way she stretches her legs so that I see the muscles moving. One small quick kiss before I roll over and order another bottle of wine.

"We have to keep our fluids up. Getting dehydrated would be a terrible shame."

"And I can do some amazing things with a wine bottle," she winks and pulls me back into the bed.

~ ~ ~

A Place

2007-07-04T19:37:00.000-04:00

Not written by, but for, me. I just did the enjambment & graphics. Ya gotta click on it to enlarge it. :)

Printed Poetry

2007-06-28T20:00:00.000-04:00

These are available as greeting cards, postcards, and 11x17 posters in my Cafe Press shop:

wither

2007-06-25T18:15:00.001-04:00

standing alone on the shore of hope's oasis
watching the pebbles of disappointment
gradually displace its waters
each plunk, perhaps, insignificant
until sheer volume renders
shallow its pull

it no longer matters whether the promise
is half empty or half fool
there's still not enough
hope remaining to quench
a desiccated heart's thirst

the sun draws blood through skin
tenderized by the sting of blown sand
leaving parched dreams
and echoes of passion
waiting in deception's desert for love to rain

~ ~ ~

a poster of this poem is available

~ ~ ~

Beautiful!
06/26/07 by lucky-E-leven in Texas, USA
I loved every word of this poem, but what really got me was the time-travel it took me on ... spanning such a long period of time in a few succinct lines. Very powerful. Very painful and beautiful at the same time.

I'm jealous
07/25/07 by mismused in USA
Beautiful metaphors, lovely construction, heartrending, way too emotional, but compelling. A sweetly written lament of the heart.

13

2007-06-22T22:00:00.000-04:00

Thirteen years ago today – at just about this time, too – I was in the recovery room following the emergency c-section delivery of my first child, and I was planning his funeral. I'd just spent two hours in the operating room watching too many doctors scurrying around – cutting me open without regard for how I'd be sewn back together, yanking a big baby from my gut and doing absolutely hideous things to him to get him to just BREATHE.

I held a pillow over my gut as the anesthesia wore off 'cause it felt like my sobs would tear open the incision. Right before they moved me to a room, a wheeled bassinet-thingy passed by and I got to peek at him – buried in tubes and wires. They flew him to the tertiary care NICU across town. A helicopter, just to cross town.

Less than 24 hours later, I convinced the doctors to release me so that I could be with him. "I'll be at another hospital, for Christ's sake!" I screamed at them. They let me go – against their better judgment. They did it because they were certain my son would not survive, and they didn't want to deprive me of the chance to spend some time with him.

I never told anyone how much I bled those first few days. I was afraid they'd make me leave his side. I leaked everywhere: blood from below, tears from above, and milk from my breasts.

I remember the parade of forms – consent forms for various extreme measures: lung surfactants, ECMO, Broviac ... Words no parent should ever have to hear.

I remember how huge he looked compared to all the preemies.

I remember them saying, "Don't get attached. He won't survive to leave the hospital."

I left his side only when forced: when the doctors made rounds, nursing shift changes, and when my husband spelled me for a couple hours so I could shower. During those times, I left a tape recorder there for him – with my voice reading to him. I slept in the rocking chair beside the ... I suppose you'd call it a bed, sorta.

I remember the day I returned after rounds to discover that one of the two ventilators (the "jett puff" one) had been removed and the ugly drainage tube sticking out of his side had been pulled. That was also the day that they told me he wouldn't need the ECMO after all. Extra Corporeal Membrane Oxygenation. In other words, lung bypass. I nearly fainted.

One by one, the IVs came out – but not before he'd blown so many of them that it looked like someone put cigarettes out on his precious skin. They even shaved patches of his thick, dark hair for scalp IVs.

The nurses snuck me food, although eating in the NICU was against the rules. They wheeled in a breast pump every few hours. By the time they started him "on calories" (through an NG tube – oh, 'scuse me, naso-gastric tube for the unscarred), I had over 3 gallons of expressed breast milk waiting in their freezer.

I remember each prognosis – carefully worded pessimism. One particularly callous neurosurgeon said, "It only takes a brain stem to be a baby." One warned, "He'll never even recognize you." (Wanna bet, asshole?)

I remember the hospital social worker pulling me aside to deliver information about institutions: "You can have more children, honey. Place him here. He'll get excellent care. Get on with your life." (As if.)

I remember holding him for the first time – when he was three weeks old – and the entire NICU staff standing around us, crying and applauding.

I remember bringing him home – when he was four weeks old – and, for the first time, nursing him directly from my breasts. (They never did know that I wet my pinkie with breast milk and put it in his mouth at the hospital – while he was "eating" through that damned tube. I wanted him to taste, damn it!)

I remember every damned time he did something that someone said he'd never do.

Ten years later, he was named as one of our community's "most influential citizens."

Today, he became a teenager.

Have It Your Way

2007-06-21T09:30:00.000-04:00

Candi sauntered into the room. “Ready?”

He gulped, nodded.

“Okay, then. Lemme show you how she’s done. I’m sure you’ll be a pro in no time.” She ran her fingertips across the cold stainless steel counter—a caress, really. “Put one here and the other here—side by side and spread open. Like this,” she demonstrated with a saucy wink.

“Now, smear both sides with this creamy lubricant. Rub it in. Oh, yeah! Just like that,” she purred. “You’re a very fast learner, Ricky. I just knew you’d be good at this!”

A blush crept up his neck, and the room spun on its axis; that being her tongue. He tried in vain to wrench his focus away, but he just couldn’t take his eyes off her lips—lips that would look divine wrapped around his…

“Ricky? Pay attention, now. We’re getting to the tricky parts. You wanna be very careful how you lay down your meat. Too hard, and you’ll bruise her buns.

“I really prefer to get my hot meat on a soft bed: cool and crisp, maybe even spritzed with mineral water. It’s a nice touch, and she’ll taste better. Trust me on this one. I know what I’m talkin’ about.

“Now, some people like a top sheet. I think it’s a bit cheesy, but—well—your mileage may vary, as they say. I wanna see my meat—wanna be able to savor it, roll it around on my tongue without having anything stuck to it, y’know?”

“Um…uh…yeah...” Ricky’s articulation, never stellar, took a dive and met his cock somewhere slightly southwest of the equator. Only the waistband of his BVDs kept the twain from meeting.

Candi hooked a finger under his chin and lifted it so she could look him in the eyes. “But sometimes—just every once in a while—I like to double my meat. I might not look like I can take it—‘cause I’m kinda little—but I assure you, I’m quite capable. You’ll meet others like me, too, once you get good at it. More than you’d expect. I can even introduce you to a few once your training’s completed.”

A lone bead of sweat trickled down the back of Ricky’s neck.

“Now,” she continued, “let me tell you why this is gonna be your dream job—if you do it right, that is. When you can give really good, really hot meat—and you can do it on demand—they’ll just keep comin’ and comin’ and comin’ like there’s no tomorrow. They’ll beg you for more. You’ll be slappin’ meat and creaming buns all damned day long. It just doesn’t get any better than that!

“You’ll develop a fan club. They’ll come to you beggin’ you to slip ‘em some meat—maybe even askin’ you to slide a pickle in there for some extra fun. Nothin’ wrong with that! Everyone needs a little variety to spice things up a bit.

“So, tell me, Ricky. How do you like your burgers?”

100 Words (or Fewer)

2007-05-30T20:30:00.000-04:00

* * *

Christine dipped her finger into the wine glass and with it drew a large, wet heart on her lover's stomach. "The difference between my love for you and yours for me is, as I see it, that mine IS conditional. I don't want unconditional love. I can't respect it because it's too much like worship. No, I prefer to be loved conditionally. Attach strings to your love. I want there to be lines in the sand of your emotional desert, things I could do that would damage us. Without them, you're just a dog to me. I'm a cat person."

* * *

Weekends made her feel pathetic, and the weekdays weren't much better of late. Squeezed into the transitional moments of a well-worn orbit, real change hovered just out of reach, teasing. Ricki asked herself for the umpteeth time why she put up with it; why she allowed another to put her on hold. Where was this love? On what plane did it exist? When she reached for its sustenance, her hands hit… a black hole of promises. The complete lack of any sense of urgency fueled her growing dissatisfaction. Time passed inexorably and with it, the gravity of her hope.

* * *

Stepping off the roller coaster, Chloe blinked in an attempt to balance. Her body still swayed with the memories of the excruciatingly slow uphill climbs followed by the inevitable gut-wrenching plunges. How long had she ridden; how many circuits? She couldn't recall when she last felt terra firma beneath her feet. Her first steps were unsteady, tentative, but as she distanced herself from the ride, her confidence grew. It felt good to be moving on her own terms, at her own pace. Leaving the ride behind, she lifted her eyes to the horizon. There, she smiled. I'm going there.

* * *

Leah studied the small gift in her hands. A token, really. Inexpensive bordering on cheap. Certainly not a burden to the giver, requiring more thought than coin. Nevertheless, she wanted—needed—it, and she absolutely hated the fact that she had to ask for it. Anyone paying attention, the ultimate gift, would have known. Anyone truly committed to her happiness would—should—have known. She shook it. Its heft felt hollow, contrived, desperate; not fulfilling as it would have been if spontaneous. Sighing, she flung it against the wall. Even its physical impact disappointed her. "Too little. Too late."

* * *

There's a difference between being "reserved" and being "deceitful," and regardless how much Tamara rationalized, that difference left a garish, indelible stain on the crisp, white linen of their love. She spread a salve of words around her actions to soothe Justin's burn. Poured excuses into neat, little capsules and dispensed them like medicine. Drowned the voices with sweet wine and sweeter promises. Packaged her precious sacrifice like a gift with a shiny silver bow. At the end of the day, it still hurt him. What purpose did such pain serve if it destroyed the very reason for its existence?

* * *

The arguments sounded weak to Jamie's ears, and he knew why: they were weak. No matter how he sliced it, he couldn't rationalize his actions in a way that convincingly justified the hurt they caused. Not just any hurt, either. Oh, no. Jamie had, by persuading himself it was for the best, hurt—deeply—the one person he wanted most to please. He wondered if he'd done irreparable harm to their relationship and prayed not, especially since he knew he was just going to continue to do it. Every day, every moment, was a choice—and Jamie chose to procrastinate.

* * *

The process of first recognizing, then accepting, that the relationship was never going to be what she most wanted it to be drove Maria into an emotional abyss. Too tired, too angry, and just too fucking too to haul herself out of the pit, she stretched supine on its floor and wallowed in the muck of ennui. It sucked at her soul, and she knew she should divorce herself from it rather than continue to hope for change. Move on. Alone. Perhaps forever alone, or at least until she could scour the stain of such transient beauty from her skin.

* * *

One by one, the gang filled the corner booth. Tamara swallowed her pride as she accepted Justin's kiss. Their ever-changing dynamic made each gathering fresh: sometimes awkward, others invigorating. Friends today might be lovers tomorrow. Through it all, the whole remained surprisingly solid. Jamie held out Chloe's chair, winking as he ignored Maria's glare. Ricki flanked her left, and Leah her right, making Maria's ire evaporate in the heat of their proximity. Girl love, they all knew, existed on a different plane of emotional existence.

Christine raised her glass. "A toast… to love!"

"To love!" they echoed in unison, laughing.

# # #

And the feedback ...

Resonates
06/26/07 by Nirvanadragones
- deeply, as always. I love that you write my feelings without you intending to. That's what Soulcandy does. And I'm so very thankful.

Masterful
06/26/07 by saw_man1 in Atlanta
That was indeed a masterful series of sketches which when strung together form a vivid portrait. This is a perfect example of less being more!

What was your intention?
06/26/07 by Anonymous
The way you strung together words is pretty - in fact, they are almost musical - like a poem, but I have NO clue what you are talking about or what were your intentions for writing this collection of words. I guess I'm just not artsy enough because I have no clue what you are writing about or what was your intention for stringing these words together. Nevertheless, it was pretty.

Beautiful
06/27/07 by Northsider in canada
This was a lovely, honest, and unencumbered treasure: almost jazz like. I loved it, it inspired me.

Trained

2007-05-25T14:00:00.000-04:00

Victyr raised the hand nearest the aisle without turning from the window. Outside, early morning fog blanketed the terminal, rendering travelers into a throng of bustling apparitions. He felt his ticket taken, heard the snick of it being punched, and waited for the same two words as it was returned to his hand.

“Pleasant journey.”

The familiar smells of coffee and bacon followed the conductor as he made his way through the car. His breakfast never varied, but the odor sometimes competed with that of the fabric softener his wife used. At least, Victyr assumed the man’s wife laundered his clothes. He wore a wedding ring, after all, and his collars were always starched.

Snick for the old guy with the musty suit. “Pleasant journey.”

Snick for the haggard, young woman. “Pleasant journey.”

And so it went. Twenty-seven regulars and a handful of occasionals. He knew all their stops; guessed all their stories. Each traveled alone.

Victyr often complained about the commute, but he could not imagine his life without the comfort of its routine. Each day, he crossed six stops to his destination, spent the day in a purgatory of his own creation, and returned in the evening to a house that wasn’t home.

He’d long since memorized the cadence of the tracks and the flicker of passing lights through the crimson curtain of his eyelids. His fellow passengers he knew by scent and by sight but not by name. Save one. An exception. They didn’t speak, but the camaraderie of shared silence cemented their bonds. Misery loved company.

By the time the train reached his stop, only he and Mrs. Martim remained onboard. They didn’t acknowledge one another until the last of the other passengers disembarked. To do so seemed to violate a code, of sorts. Each traveled alone.

At their destination, they often shared a cup of hot coffee and cold commiseration before parting ways for the day. Her situation mirrored his own. Neither could see any escape.

Victyr shrugged himself into his overcoat as he rose and collected an old briefcase. Stepping into the aisle, he paused to allow Mrs. Martim to precede him.

She sat two rows forward, on the opposite side. Her head was bowed, and she made no move to stand. He thought, perhaps, she’d fallen asleep.

Still loathe to speak, Victyr cleared his throat. No response.

After his second attempt failed to get her attention, he whispered, “Mrs. Martim, time to go.”

She turned then, eyes filled with tears. “I’m going on today, Victyr, to the end of the line.”

Speechless, he shook his head.

“Yes. It’s time.”

“I…” He reached for some words, any words. “Good luck, Mrs. Martim.”

She took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “Thank you. Please, though, call me by given name. Just once. I won’t see you again unless…”

He looked down at the back of his hand and the sheen of her tears that sparkled upon it.

“Good luck,” his voice cracked, “Joy.”

Pantheism 101: Sexual Synæsthesia

2007-05-20T21:00:00.001-04:00

Pantheism 101 is now available as an ebook.

~ ~ ~

Impressive work...
04/02/07 by jakebarnes06
...from one who has watched that of which you write.

A little jewel...
04/04/07 by TE999
that glows brightly. Evocative and inspiring. Wonderful story, imp. Good luck in the contest.
Tender & sweet
04/05/07 by Sapphire_O
This was a very comforting story. I think you did a great job of writing an original Earth Day story; the theme is genuine and integral, rather than tacked on. I love the tenderness you show Penny in this story. Thanks for sharing.
wow
04/05/07 by Unbridled_Passion
that is all I can say-wow!
I really enjoyed that
04/08/07 by CeriseNoire in USA
Lovely, vivid imagery. A very pleasing read.
Intriguing
04/09/07 by RogueLurker
I found myself drawn in as the story unfolded and enjoyed it thoroughly. A fascinating take on Earth Day - and I'd like to find out where to sign up for those classes. Wonderfully done.
didactic literalism
04/11/07 by gaoshan
dictates that I remind you that Cecil Adams has conclusively demonstrated that running in the rain does, in fact, keep you drier. Otherwise, an interesting work.
Very original
04/13/07 by Darkniciad in IN US
Unique, with a lot of character development in just a few words.
Another piece of IMPressive writing
04/15/07 by Rumple Foreskin
Somehow I can't see that class at Texas A&M or Bob Johns University. :) Well done, Imp.
Creative
04/15/07 by SelenaKittyn
Creative and interesting... and extremely well written! Selena
Interesting
04/18/07 by damppanties
A unique story, but then, one expects that from you. Good one, Imp.

Timeless

2007-05-10T08:30:00.000-04:00

First light peeks through the drapery sheers, appearing as a raspberry blush through closed eyelids. Their pale bodies lie atop the soft taupe bedspread, naked limbs entwined in a deeply sated slumber. Lance smiles softly without opening his eyes, remembering that the woman he loves is—against all odds—finally by his side. His beard is still redolent with her essence, and his hips ache with the memory of passion lasting far into the night. Into the pre-dawn hours, if truth be told.

Truth. If defined as the absence of pretense, he muses, then their love is most assuredly true. Truer, in fact, than any bound by the arbitrary constructs of sin and salvation. Call it destiny, if needs be, or call it lust. Both may be true, but neither matters when the silky skin of her thighs rests atop his groin. Their rhythmic union declares itself beyond the reach of definition, of mere words—timeless in its systolic perfection.

Gwen stirs—whimpers as if an unpleasant dream disturbs her sleep—and he kisses her forehead to smooth her brow. The ding of an elevator carries through the heavy door, accompanied by muffled voices from another realm, another reality. The wheels of a pulled suitcase echo as retreating hoof beats against the ridges of the tiled corridor floor. Distant sounds of morning traffic filter through the thick panes of glass high above the city streets. Reminders of a world to which they must soon return. The dual spells of duty and honor, cast upon their souls, would ne’er allow them to remain in this sheltered escape. Their power trumped all else.

He is painfully aware that the universe may have but one such night set aside for them, and it is not without grave risk to their lives, their loves, and their cause. Yet her insistent kisses vanquish all doubt. Her hot tongue upon his cock eclipses even the threat of death, and her velvet touch rends his very soul. There is no price too steep for this moment—no grail too dear. In their stolen embrace, only now exists.

Opening his eyes, Lance drinks the sight of her face. Fair lashes rest against porcelain cheeks still flushed with sex. Her breath teases his mouth, and he moves closer to inhale the air once inside her—as if in so doing, part of her will forever be in his blood. She smiles in waking as his tongue then traces the outline of her lips, and her eyes—bluest fields deep—slowly open to the morning.

The purity of her gaze falls upon him, and he gasps in wonder. She can speak volumes with nary a word, calm raging storms of doubt, and keep the poison chalice of fear from his lips. There is both peace and passion in those eyes, and when they hold him, he wants only to swim in their depths for all of tomorrow. That such unparalleled comfort coexists with burning desire is ever a source of awe, and Lance again thanks the powers that be for allowing him even one night of such bliss. To dare hope for a lifetime of it seems greedy in the extreme, yet such hope is his very oxygen.

Their kiss deepens, and their bodies move together—closing the narrow space. He feels the cold steel just as Gwen gasps. Neither recoils. They know—without needing to look—what lies between them. It has been there all along, in spirit if not in fact, and their eyes lock in silent understanding. Time’s up. The sword’s ornate handle protrudes from the mattress, its legendary blade embedded as they slept.

Their love of another brought them to this place and time, and while both feel the unavoidable shame of shared betrayal, neither regrets their union. To deny such passion would be to insult life and, in so doing, forfeit the divine magic in one’s soul. Better to at least attempt flight—soaring ever so briefly with the warmth of the sun on love’s wings—than remain ever tethered to the earth. Better to have at least glimpsed the heart’s true Camelot than never know such beauty. They are now one, and no matter where life’s currents take them, it will always be thus.

And so, as one, their fingers grip the shaft to extract the blade, and they read the words engraved upon it. Timeless words for a timeless quest. On one side: Take Me Up. On the other: Cast Me Away.

Private Party, Public Beach

2007-04-25T10:00:00.000-04:00

This one was commissioned by the owner of a story site through Literary Metro. He supplied specific names, physical characteristics, setting, length, and ... money. I'm almost ashamed to have whored myself in this way, but the cash was still green. *blush*

~ ~ ~

The party fizzled shortly after midnight. When the rowdier guests took off for the downtown clubs, the more sedate overnighters broke out the high-priced booze and higher-priced hashish. They'd drink and talk and smoke until dawn, but it'd be more cerebral than Bacchanalian. The rented beach house could comfortably sleep eight, but Sarah figured that at least twenty would spend the night—although she doubted anyone would actually sleep.

Greeting her friends at the door, Sarah pointed them toward the kitchen, where food and drink were arrayed on every available surface. They could probably live comfortably for a week on the party platters and hors d'ouvrés—and stay comfortably buzzed on the Stolichnaya and Tangeray. Most of her guests were couples, but a few were unattached. One, in particular, interested her—a new friend named Kate.

Since, at twenty-two, Sarah still struggled with chronic shyness, she worked hard to capitalize on her other assets. Flirting and witty banter would never be her forte, but she hoped her toned body and lovely features more than made up for it. She wore a red sundress to offset the green of her eyes, knowing it also complemented her creamy skin and long, black hair.

Kate bounced through the door carrying two big bags of ice and looking, for all the world, like sunshine personified. Her smile could light up a room and the sparkle in those mischievous blue eyes always made Sarah wonder just what the vivacious teen was thinking. As usual, Kate spoke her mind, so Sarah didn't have to wonder very long.

"Damn, Sarah! You look hot in that dress. H-O-T-T, hot!"

Sarah blushed and stammered a welcome, wishing she had Kate's bubbly, flirty self-confidence — in addition to her petite frame and thick, blonde hair. The girl was way too cute for her own good, and she wondered if Kate was aware of the dizzying effect she had on both men and women.

"Here," Sarah added, taking one of the bags from Kate's hands. "Let me help you. The kitchen's this way." She cocked her head in the direction and set off in front of Kate. At the doorway, she turned to say something — and found Kate staring at her ass. Whatever she'd been about to say was immediately forgotten.

Kate didn't appear the least embarrassed to be caught admiring her bottom. In fact, she winked and licked her lips. Sarah not only felt a blush rise again in her cheeks, but she also felt a hot wetness between her legs.

Once they'd stowed the ice in the freezer, Kate suggested they take a walk on the beach. Sarah hesitated at first, thinking it rather rude to abandon her own party, but the desire to be near Kate superseded that reluctance.

A few guests were already on the beach, kicking around in the surf. Kate grabbed Sarah's hand and tugged her in the other direction — away from the gathering.

"Let's get better acquainted," she urged, again winking. "I've wanted to get to know you since we met last month. At first, I thought you didn't like me... but then Carrie told me that you're really shy."

Her throat suddenly dry, Sarah could only nod. She was intensely aware of Kate's hand — its fingers entwined with her own, and she ached to have more contact. Sarah wanted to knock the younger woman to the sand, press their bodies together, and... She shook those thoughts from her head. No use wishing for what she'd never have the guts to do.

"So, like, I realized that if I wanted to get closer to you, I was gonna have to be the one to make it happen. Do you mind, Sarah? Do you want me, too?"

A small noise escaped Sarah's throat. It was the best she could do under the circumstances.

Kate put her hands on Sarah's shoulders and spun the taller woman to face her. "Look at me, please, Sarah. If you won't speak — or can't speak — then let me see whether or not there's desire burning in those gorgeous green eyes."

Smiling, Sarah lifted her eyes. She hoped that her expression answered all of Kate's questions. As soon as their eyes met, Sarah found her voice.

"Kiss me," she whispered. "Kiss me now... please."

It was Kate's turn to be speechless, but words were no longer necessary. Taking Sarah's face in both her hands, she stood on tiptoe and delivered a soft kiss — a kiss that rapidly grew in intensity.

"Down..." Kate gasped, breaking the kiss. "Let's get horizontal." She untied her sarong and spread it on the sand. Sitting on it, she pulled Sarah down beside her.

The pale blue of Kate's swimsuit glowed in the light of the full moon, reflecting in her eyes and making her appear supernaturally beautiful. Sarah envied the younger woman's stunning body. She'd always wanted small breasts —like Kate's— so she could comfortably go braless, but the genetic dice had given her a fuller figure.

Kate wasted no time on subtleties, reaching under the gauze of Sarah's dress to peel off her thong. Sarah tried to focus, but her mind kept spinning out of control. She'd dreamt of being intimate with Kate for weeks, and now it was happening — and happening so fast!

Kate's hand snaked between her legs and found her wetness — physical evidence of her desire. Sarah groaned into the blonde's mouth as she surrendered to the finger fucking, wishing Kate's tongue would replace her hand. After a few minutes, Kate pushed her onto her back.

"I've wanted to taste you since we met," Kate admitted, kissing her once more before crawling head first under Sarah's dress. She nibbled her way up Sarah's inner thighs and paused, and Sarah whimpered when she felt Kate's hot breath against her pussy.

"Now! Please..." she begged. "Make me come, Kate."

Kate responded by parting Sarah's labia with her thumbs and sucking hard on Sarah's clit while simultaneously flicking it with her agile tongue. Sarah bucked hard, driving her pussy into Kate's face, as her orgasm overtook her.

When she was again able to breathe, Sarah looked into the smiling eyes of her new lover.

"Your turn," she grinned.

~ ~ ~

I'm so proud ...

2007-04-11T07:00:00.000-04:00

... of my partn3r! He's got two poems in the April 11 issue of Clean Sheets ezine!

Drop him a comment & let him know you enjoyed them, why don't you?

acid pain

2007-02-15T17:00:00.000-05:00

a rancid vein
of disappointment
slowly pollutes
the currents of love's river

its rain of words
spreads viscid stain
eating the precious
mental armor of hope

only time can distill
the fetid bane
healing the burn
of emotional corrosion

until again it reigns
peels skin from scar
searing the soul
in acid pain

~ ~ ~

Very, very ..
02/17/07 by Amyfriend in Ontario, Canada
interesting poem and certainly leaves food for thought..exceptionally well done.

some very
02/17/07 by 4degrees
hard words here. also, some of me personal favorite words...you did great in conveying this feeling of anguish. excellent po ma'am. curt

~~
02/17/07 by LeBroz in — NY - too far from Atlanta
Powerfully written with carefully chosen words that force an image of pain, healing, and rebirth.

really good
02/17/07 by champagne1982
Your choices eat at my mind's eye as I visualize each image you present in this poem. An excellent read.

wow
02/17/07 by SelenaKittyn
I can feel this one.

Brilliant
02/19/07 by vella_ms
My favorite line: "mental armor of hope" Silly, to pick a line and roll with it but this one grabbed at me and won't let go.

^
04/27/07 by Bill Dada
Very powerful. I especially liked 'emotional corrosion' and the last three lines.

Preditors & Editors

2007-02-14T07:00:00.000-05:00

Tapestry finished at #6 for best poem published in 2006, and yours truly finished at #6 for best poet of 2006. *bows*

Listen To Me

2007-01-31T05:00:00.002-05:00

UPDATE (6/3/2008): "Listen to Me" made its debut in NYC at the Happy Ending Lounge in August of 2006 where I read it to a live audience. It now appears in the print edition of fine flickering hungers and the upcoming BDSM anthology entitled Surrender: Tales of Erotic Submission along with stories by Eden Bradley, Eliza Gayle, and Reese Gabriel.

Here is the feedback it received when it was posted on Literotica:

Ofcourse,
01/20/07 by vella_ms
there will be a sequel to this, correct? beautiful. just beautiful.

Mmmm!
01/20/07 by SelenaKittyn
What a lovely, delightful tease. My idea of a great Valentine's Day surprise for sure! :)

I Remember Well...
01/20/07 by Belegon in San Diego
The effect of this little vignette on our audience that night...If y'all think this is sexy to read, imagine hearing it read to you as you sit in a dark booth in a small New York nightclub...the only lights are candles on the tables, a bit of red atmospheric lighting behind the bar (to allow the bartenders to mix and people not to stumble) and the spotlight that shines on the dark-haired beauty with the seductive voice. She sits on a stool, the microphone at her lips and the only other sound in the club is the stifled groans of her squirming audience...

Please
01/20/07 by Anonymous in USA
I do hope there will be a continuation of this story.

Waiting on the edge...
01/20/07 by Dracona in USA
Such a quick build up of excitement only to be left hanging on the edge....mmmm....just how I like it. I shall be waiting breathlessly for more.

very hot
01/20/07 by Unbridled_Passion
the blindfold was a nice touch

Hot, hot, hot
01/20/07 by Darkniciad in IN, US
Without a doubt, a temperature riser. I really liked the use of "Are you ready for this?" to build up cadence and tension. Good luck in the contest!

Well, that was...
01/20/07 by TE999 in Florida USA
ahem...impressive. Sexy little story that begs for a sequel. Nice one, imp. Good luck in the contest.

left waiting
01/21/07 by Anonymous
Nice Start, lame ending

Impresive Story
01/21/07 by bornagain in USA
imp I think you have a impresive story i hope you continue with continuance. Pat .

Very pretty little story, Imp!
01/21/07 by SimonBrooke in Scotland
Impish, and delightful. I loved the ending.

Meow!
01/24/07 by Aurora Black in Greece
I'd definitely take that for Valentine's over the standard flowers & chocolate! For such a short piece, it's bursting with enough eroticism to start a four-alarm fire. Good luck in the contest, lovely. *wink*

very hot story
01/24/07 by israeli_gal
I hope you continue it!!!! Good luck in the ontest! Maharat

Very hot
01/28/07 by Fallenfromgrace in UK
Hell imp! that was great :D i echo everyone else in saying i hope there is more to come! ;)

The only thing better....
01/29/07 by RebeccaLeah in Old West
Is hearing it live. It was amazing, not knowing what would happen, just clinging to every word that fell from your lips. You added a tiny bit, but it's now perfect for Valentine's day and still as sexy as ever. :kiss:es

More??
01/31/07 by ABSTRUSE
Please say there is more?? you teasing bitch. Abs.

impressive doesn't even begin ...
02/01/07 by RogueLurker
... to describe this story or the author. :) A wonderfully sensuous begining. This one just carried me away. Looking forward to the continuation.

Well done
02/06/07 by kbate
I died when the company was 'him'. So close - but for Lesbian sex, I was unhappy to see that...that...that...'him' was important. Gave you the five anyway - the story was so well written and the mood was so well set that the finale did not detract from the quality of the story, only from the quality of the sex for me.

Naught Good

2006-12-15T00:00:00.002-05:00

Naught Good is now available as an ebook.

* * *

Hmmm
12/15/06 by Anonymous
What?
Huh!
12/15/06 by Anonymous
What the?
Regret.
12/15/06 by duddle146 in USA
Regret after a night of passion.
Well heres my problem with what written
12/15/06 by Risq_001
While the author may have had some idea of where they wanted this tidbit to go, there isn't enough here for myself, and a few others, to understand what the author wanted to convey. Confusion might have been part of what was trying to be conveyed. If not, then confusion is the only thing I got from this. Not enough of anything else for me to understand what the author was trying to say about what this characters motivation was. -Risq
You've shared enough details
12/15/06 by Nirvanadragones
for the reader to be able to figure out the necesarry. But even so, this piece is not about the detail, or the events. The raw emotion of that daily battle with Self is perfectly portraid. Love does that - makes us question not only our own motivations and actions, but it makes us question our innermost being. When fear and dishonesty is part of your journey, hope hurts. And the battle to be true to ourselves continues - day after day, dream after dream, one breath at a time. Thank you for helping me see this.
Brilliant.
12/15/06 by Anonymous
This is so powerful, so emotional and intense. This came from the soul. A snippet inside ones head. A cleansing. Simply amazing...I get it.
I?
12/15/06 by z00time in USA
I kicked the water. I smelled the tire. we ran backwards. The ball is cubed. 179 degrees. There. My comment is as understandable as the story.
She new it in her heart,
12/15/06 by Anonymous
I rest my case
I read it! Then I re read it and read it again!!
12/15/06 by NeedYou
I still haven't the sightest idea if thhis was a story about a man or woman who chaeted or watched his/her spouse cheat. Did he/she know about it/didn't know but wondered? Was it planned by him/her or was it something he/she did and was caught by the husband/wife? Was it a man/woman relationship or a gay one. Was it done by him/her with a him/her? It read as if he/she was in pain fromwhat happened that was for sure. But I'm not sure why there was pain? There was puke and wine and food but I have no idea where he/she ate it. Was the act done before he/she left home and was it the husband/wife who stayed and watched him/her leave? Was it he/she that didn't close the door? Was it him/her that left and went to the hotel for an hour. And WHY did he/she go there? Why an hour? Who did he/she call before he/she arrived at the hotel. Was it there that he/she fucked him/her or was it before he/she left the house? I have no fucking idea and neither does anyone else who read this. I hope the aurthor whoever it is he/she will be inspired to write another chapter and this time "TELL US SOMETHING!!!"
Congratulations!
12/15/06 by Anonymous in USA
Congratulations, not to the author, but to the anonymous who "got it" and thought it was brilliant. I didn't have the vaguest idea of what the writers point was in this story other than that someone was in shock and geieving. How and why is ,to me, a mysery. Sorry I'm not bright enough to "get it". 60 year old George
I liked it
12/15/06 by AutumnWriter in USA
I disagree with the negative comments. The purpose of the author was to force the reader to pick up bits and pieces and read between the lines. A good story doesn't have to line it up like ABC. I suggest trying to go with what the author was trying to do, instead of fighting it. I think that I understood the storyline, but I won't state it here because that would be against the author's purpose. I enjoy creative and original pieces and this was one.
Excellent story
12/15/06 by Alvaron53
Superb prose with excellent word choices. The author's sparse style lends an edginess, a raw quality to the telling. Normally the lack of dialog would cripple a story but it doesn't here since the plotline's conflict is internalized in the narrator. The author tells us next to nothing about the characters in the story yet we know who they are. The cheating husband and the other woman only she's a woman of conscience and that leads us to the story's plot. Her ending the months long affair after they got caught is emotionally painful but at the same time, she knows it's a move toward a healthier emotional life. The acceptance of ending it is the resolution of the story's conflict and it's well-handled by the author's compact prose. I'm sorry some of the other commentators didn't get the story. I agree with AutumnWriter: the gold is there if you pan for it. Excellent fiction this is. This 100's for you, implexity, for a story well-told. I thank you.
totally confusing
12/15/06 by Anonymous
sounds like zen buddism type. I could not figure out what it's all about. plese help me understand. well written about ???
Impressively Veiled & Written
12/15/06 by Anonymous in Sumwhere Else
Well I felt it but had to read it again to be sure. Succinctly, her married lover asked her to participate with his one and nonely whereas the truant officer wouldn't pay for the rose which felt wrong but satisfying to some except for the cat who we never heard from but understood why but the dog didn't either so - well you get the drift. It was either that or like the interpretive two below detailed - or not. I very much look forward to the all revealing chapter 3.5 wherein all is spelled out for me and most. Still I liked it such as it was - provoking another drink or more. Sometimes the camo is too effective Author
for a little trashy piece of jerry spring
12/15/06 by Anonymous
I guess it is "deep" enough,,, don't misunderstand me, I am an observer of people and cultures, so even Jerry Springer-type issues are relevant and "important" to me, even if people try to make fun of them,,, they really reveal what people do, what they think, how they think, when you lift all the facades, fakes, veils, what-not. Unfortunately, this was NOT a story. It's an attempt at some deep, clever, "succinct" moment rendition (the rendition of a fleeting exchange between two masochistic people who are saying good bye to each other, still calling one another "baby" when it's just a phrase that they have no problem use it on a dirty pig or dog they see in the street,,, But for the "deep thinkers", readers, hey, go ahead and rate it "100" and put some exclamation marks after it. Just allow those of us who think it is not worth much to also say what we think... No hard feelings...
?No Tip?
12/15/06 by Anonymous
You were not as you wished disturbed correct?I would say all things concidered this is indeed a classic bedtime story it sure put me to sleep.PAX
Moral considerations: Naught Necessary
12/16/06 by KOLKORE in USA
It went well up to the last minute, and then the ending pretty much killed the story for me. A moment of truth happened. OK, she is moving along: shock and initial adjustment. She is realizing the true nature of the relations; we read good accounting of internal conflicts with the insight that she should have listened to her gut feeling all along. So as the somewhat overly dramatic ex partner for this affair is getting ready to make her exit from the hotel and from the story – I was hit by the most devastating comment from her. She does not nod apathetically, in response to the receptionist’s belated announcement, she bitterly bites: “Too bad you didn't get a chance to deliver them before I left." OMG, is she telling us that had she received the messages on time they could have saved their hopeless affair? Why else would she say: “too bad”? Now that’s really too bad, but from a very different perspective. Up to this point I believed in her internal monolog: that she was relieved – resolution- her gut feeling told her etc. In other words, that she had some shred of moral fiber in her. Ooops, she does not, just opportunism, and a lot of self serving rationalizations. Per characterization though, it was very successful. I am sure there are at least some people like those two “lovers” of opportunity. What bothers me though is that I am just not sure that the author actually meant or felt any need to add to her very apt descriptions, any angel, even a shade of irony or a critical view in describing the woman (being a partner to an affair). For example, she is never caught having any empathy for the betrayed woman. But as this self centered mentality is typical, you can count this as another plus to the character depiction. Call me old fashion, I am still disturbed by people who are not burdened by the extra weight of conscience, be it in characters in stories or people in real life.
I don't mind being called stupid
12/16/06 by Kanga40
for admitting I have no idea what this is about. I definitely didn't 'get it', in fact I doubt if there is an 'it' to get. A wonderful example of a situation where an author with a great idea actually manged to get none of that idea into words.
There must be something wrong with me, I actually
12/16/06 by sack in USA
understood this. As a matter of fact, it was painfully clear throughout. The author has an impressive way of distilling the emotions of a complex situation into very believable actions/reactions. Sure, there are details we'll never know, especially what lead up to the present situation. Yet, I found myself needing to read every word of ths subtle masterpiece, every scrap of info., every clue, no matter how minute. Few, if anyone can achieve "less is more" with the smoothness of this author. Well above the typical story with this overused theme!

Cave

2006-11-22T16:00:00.000-05:00

I don't want to hear
someday words
against dank cave walls
dripping excuses
into dark pools
into dark fools

dreams collect
in the crevices
glowing with hope
until smothered by now
by wait
by hide

My skin aches for light
etching the stain
of lies from the dermis
of our love

~ ~ ~

undercover
02/01/07 by duddle146 in USA
dreams dripped by fools into deep dark dank pools.

Lies..lies..
02/01/07 by Amyfriend in Ontario, Canada
and more lies being buried..

~~
02/01/07 by LeBroz in — NY - too far from Atlanta
Once again the very creative Alessia pulls off some impressively abstract work on this piece, pulling us out of the dank underbelly of life's lies to bring life's loves into the brilliant light of truth.

Ugh
02/17/07 by SelenaKittyn
Been there. :(

Somtimes
02/19/07 by vella_ms
I come across a poem that makes me catch my breath. I just did. Wonderfully crafted.

^
04/27/07 by Bill Dada
Been there as well, but was never able to be this articulate about it.

fade

2006-10-11T07:00:00.000-04:00

rather than suffer
another disappointment
I'll just fade away

(Yeah, I know haiku is not supposed to be one sentence.)

Stronger

2006-09-10T17:00:00.000-04:00

I have tasted the finite,
swallowed it,
and made it a part of my soul.

The cup is bitter.

My happiness got outside of me for a while,
but I've pulled it back
and I'm stronger now.

(This one's not finished yet ... but I wanted to jot it down.)

hold the dream

2006-09-05T00:00:00.000-04:00

through
abuse or neglect
it's been whittled
paper thin
and it's cutting
my heart
as I struggle
to believe

and now
I have to let it go
or it will bleed
all over my soul
until the indelible
pain pulls me
into hope's abyss
again

Now

2006-09-01T00:00:00.001-04:00

silken silhouette
framed by the glow
of moonlight on linen
I listen as she sleeps

watching the rise and fall
of her shoulder
and drawing closer
to inhale her

the curve of her hip
thrown across a pillow
draws my fingertips
to the arc of its beauty

and they hover
hesitant
to disturb her stillness
yet aching

to grasp and to bruise
with my need
with my sex
I abandon thought

facet

2006-08-25T12:00:00.000-04:00

the eastern facet
shines
fulfilling the dawn
and hydes
the obverse
the gnostic inverse
the benevolent intent
the throbbing rhombus
of perversion
yet the eastern facet
shines

(Okay ... just yuck. They can't ALL be genius, y'know?)

Stiletto : Variations on a Theme

2006-07-20T00:00:00.000-04:00

These two pieces of flash prose (each less than 500 words) were entries into Desdmona's Stiletto Flash contest. The first, Memento, won an honorable mention. You may recognize the theme in the second, Timeless, if you're a fan of Arthurian legend. Peace, y’all.

~ Alessia

Variations on a theme

[ I ]
Memento
Father Secco paused in his preparation for Sunday’s sermon when the recently-hired cleaning girl appeared in his peripheral vision. “Yes, Carlotta? What is it?” he asked without looking up.

“Please to excuse, padre.” Her voice dropped an octave, “Is this.”

It took him a moment to decipher what sounded like ees dees before lifting just his eyes to discover Carlotta holding a plastic grocery bag at arm’s length from her body as if its contents might suddenly explode. As he met her gaze, a blush crept up her neck and lit upon her full cheeks, making her appear even younger.

Father Secco rose and circled his desk, relieving Carlotta of the bag. Free of its burden, her body immediately relaxed, and her hands clasped one another just below her ample bosom.

“I…I found eet in the confessional,” she stammered, “just like the other.”

He took a quick peek into the bag, nodded once, and thanked Carlotta for bringing it to his attention. “There’s no need to bother anyone else about this,” he cautioned as he herded her toward the door. “I’ll take care of it.”

Carlotta crossed herself and muttered, “Sí, padre. Gracias.”

His heart racing, Father Secco closed the door to his office and pressed the knob’s button to lock it. He placed the bag on his desk and fetched a small key from the compartment of a hollow crucifix—one which once held a small vial of holy water. Taking a deep breath to quell the tremor in his hands, he inserted the key into the upper left desk drawer and slowly pulled it open. Her perfume—the vanilla musk—greeted him, flooding his mind with memories of that Saturday morning when he first heard her confession.

The black patent leather stiletto—never worn, from the look of its sole—had the drawer to itself, which was quite an honor considering the substantial clutter elsewhere. On the instep in flowing red script, a simple query:

Remember me?
Indeed, he did. In fact, he dreamt of her often; his seed soaking the sheets as he slept. How could he possibly forget the whisper rasp of her hands against the fabric of her clothes, the husky guttural sound of her voice as she climaxed, and the overwhelmingly enticing scent of her arousal in the close confines of the confessional? Odd that, in spite of what they’d shared, he wouldn’t recognize her if they passed on the street.

The bag contained the shoe’s mate—with one significant addition. He removed it gingerly, pinched between thumb and forefinger, and held it at eye level. Its message, in the same red ink, sent a shiver through him:

Until next time,
But it was the scent–her scent—which produced an instant erection. The heel glistened with her juices. Still wet. He brought the stiletto nearer his face and inhaled deeply. As he extended his tongue to taste of her, the remainder of her message came into view:

padre.

[ II ]
Timeless
First light peeks through the drapery sheers, appearing as a raspberry blush through closed eyelids. Their pale bodies lie atop the soft taupe bedspread, naked limbs entwined in a deeply sated slumber. Lance smiles softly without opening his eyes, remembering that the woman he loves is—against all odds—finally by his side. His beard is still redolent with her essence, and his hips ache with the memory of passion lasting far into the night. Into the pre-dawn hours, if truth be told.

Truth. If defined as the absence of pretense, he muses, then their love is most assuredly true. Truer, in fact, than any bound by the arbitrary constructs of sin and salvation. Call it destiny, if needs be, or call it lust. Both may be true, but neither matters when the silky skin of her thighs rests atop his groin. Their rhythmic union declares itself beyond the reach of definition, of mere words—timeless in its systolic perfection.

Gwen stirs—whimpers as if an unpleasant dream disturbs her sleep—and he kisses her forehead to smooth her brow. The ding of an elevator carries through the heavy door, accompanied by muffled voices from another realm, another reality. The wheels of a pulled suitcase echo as retreating hoof beats against the tiled floor.

He is painfully aware that the universe has but one such night set aside for them, and it is not without risk to their lives, their loves, and their cause. Yet her insistent kisses vanquish all doubt. Her hot tongue upon his cock eclipses even the threat of death, and her touch sears his very soul. There is no price too steep for this moment.

Opening his eyes, Lance drinks the sight of her face. Fair lashes rest against porcelain cheeks still flushed with sex. Her breath teases his mouth, and he moves closer to inhale the air once inside her—as if in so doing, part of her will forever be in his blood. She smiles as his tongue then traces the outline of her lips, and her eyes—bluest fields deep—slowly open.

Their kiss deepens, and their bodies move together—closing the narrow space. He feels the cold steel just as Gwen gasps. Neither recoils. They know—without looking—what lies between them, and their eyes lock in silent understanding. Time’s up. The stiletto’s ornate handle protrudes from the mattress, its blade embedded as they slept.

Together, their fingers grip the shaft to extract the blade, and they read the words engraved upon it. Timeless words for a timeless quest. On one side: Take Me Up. On the other: Cast Me Away.

~ ~ ~

A-Musement

2006-07-15T00:00:00.000-04:00

This is a fun little piece I wrote a while back as part of a challenge (all dialogue, no tags): Conversation with a Muse^©.

* * *
Ahoy, mate!

"Lemme guess. I'm a pirate today. Writing a new story?"

Aye.

"You sure mix it up, Ms. Brio."

Don't wanna get bored. It's MY imagination, after all. You up for it?

"Always – and all ways. You know that."

That's why I keep you around.

"Gee, and I thought it was my sharp wit and rakish good looks."

That, too. Not to mention your incredible mainmast.

"So, can I play in your poop deck today?"

You know that's not my thing.

"Can't blame a guy for trying. Okay, then how about some reverse cowgirl?"

Possibly, but you know it makes me feel like the busty figurehead on the prow of an old sailing ship – and the last time we broke the rungs on that chair.

"But I love watching your ass slam into me. And it was YOU who cracked those rungs. My feet were firmly planted on the deck."

A technicality, as it was your fault I was bracing myself on them in the first place.

"You were lovin' it. Don't even TRY to pretend otherwise. This 'old sailing
ship' can still give good plank."

Another reason I keep you around. If my ass is what you most want to see, I'd prefer doggie style.

"Works for me – but then your hands aren't free."

Are we gonna debate positions, or are we gonna fuck?

"Your fantasy, dear. You decide."

Of course. However, it'd be much more fun with an enthusiastic partner.

"Like you had yesterday?"

Do I detect a note of jealousy in your voice?

"No! Well, maybe. Okay, yes."

Let go of that right now. I will NOT have my muses competing with one another.

"You looked like you were having such an extraordinarily good time with her."

I was – just as I intend to do with you. Did you enjoy watching?

"Naturally. Did you enjoy being watched?"

I wasn't aware of it at the time, but I like the image of you standing there, cock in hand.

"It was."

Was what?

"In hand."

Show me.

"With pleasure, lass."

Lass? Oh, the pirate thing. I'd shifted gears already.

"Well, you should let a guy know."

Can't you read my mind? You're IN it, after all.

"Takes the fun out of it."

You can't be serious! Most guys would love to know what a woman is really thinking. You can do it and choose not to?

"Feels like cheating."

Ah, a man of principle. But of course, I'd conjure nothing less. Hey! You're left handed.

"No, I'm ambidextrous – or hadn't you noticed?"

Show me.

"Come closer, sugar. My fingers wanna do some walking."

Your mast is looking quite sturdy. Do you always stroke yourself so slowly?

"No. I'll pick up speed in a bit. I'd prefer a bit of something slippery to make it more enjoyable, though."

I think I can accommodate you, but you're gonna have to work for it.

"I'm up for the challenge, so to speak."

I've no doubt you'll succeed admirably. You have incredible hands and very agile fingers. That feels quite....

"Quite? Did you lose your voice, dear?"

Oh! Damn you. That's...

"That's what? Finish your sentences!"

... quite....

"You said that already. Having problems concentrating?"

You know what that does to me – that bowling ball thing.

"Of course. That's why I'm doing it. Switching hands, though."

I see what you mean – about having something slippery.

"And you're about as slippery as they come. No pun intended."

Not coming yet, but I will be if you keep doing... THAT.

"As will I, undoubtedly."

Does your right hand know what your left hand is doing?

"Are you kidding? My right hand is insanely jealous of my left hand – as are my cock and my tongue."

Well, we wouldn't want them to feel left out, now would we?

"I'll take that as in invitation!"

As intended.

"Which first?"

Take me right to the edge with your tongue, and then impale me on your cock as I'm coming.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll get right on it."

Spin around this way if you want me to tend your mast.

"Uh uh. Too distracting."

For whom?

"For me. I wanna be focused on your cunt, not on what you're doing to my cock."

Understood and... mmmm... appreciated.

"I love it when you shave here."

Feels nice, huh?

"Sure does. Tastes damned good, too."

I can barely keep from touching myself after a close shave. Damn, I love your tongue.

"And it loves you. How 'bout my lips?"

Ah, yes. Just a little... faster.

"Fingers?"

Rrrrrright... there. Just two. Yes!

"Other hand?"

Ass.

"With pleasure. Now, are your lovely tits feeling neglected?"

(pause)

"Alessia?"

Hmm?

"Your tits? Oh, never mind. I see you're... um... handling that for me."

It won't be long now. Still up for it?

"Just tell me when."

You'll know. Oh, d-damn.

"Wow! When did you get your nipple pierced?"

A couple weeks ago. It feels...

"I love it!"

... absolutely... incredible!

"It's been too long, lover. Your tits should never be away from my mouth for that long."

If you'll recall, we were in too much of a hurry the... Oh! Oh, yes! – last time to even bother getting my shirt off. Suck my clit. Yeah. Just... like... that.

"Your legs are shaking."

Now, lover. Fuck me now!

"Gladly."

*gasp*

"I'm not gonna last long. You're so... hot... inside!"

Thanks to you. Harder, p-please.

"Oh, that's.... Yeah. Oh, yeah."

Come with me, lover.

"Mmmmm. Yes!"

I... agree... completely.

"I love it when you wrap your legs around me like that. I can drive deeper."

Yeah, but I can't push back if I don't have my feet braced against something.

"Well, you can make up for that in round two. I want you on top."

Sounds good to me, but it's gonna have to wait 'til next time. I have to get going. Real life calls.

"Shit! Oh, well. Come back soon, gorgeous."

Count on it.

* * *

Impressive
11/01/04 by mismused
An absolutely Impressive story. Fantastically written, and very different. What a writer! mismused

imp,
11/01/04 by
Quite good. Now, don't be lazy and add the details! Oh, I dug the (pause) thing, btw. :D

I'm chuckling, but
11/01/04 by matriarch
wow, another gem. I don't know where you are finding them Imp, but keep bringing them out. The combination of humour, lightheartedness and blatent sexiness produces a highly acceptable result. Phew. A woman could wish for muses like yours. Great work. Mat xx

*grin*
11/01/04 by Anonymous in USA
Delightful!

You did it again!
11/02/04 by Anonymous in USA
Another IMPressive triumph! I can't wait for your next "conversation."

That's a fun one...
11/08/04 by Belegon in Southern California
...and I like the all dialouge thing.might have to try it myself sometime.

Delightful!
12/12/04 by LadyJeanne
And devilishly clever. And proves the mind is the most erogenous zone of all.

You...
07/12/06 by ABSTRUSE
Never cease to amaze me. Abs. *kiss*

Another interesting approach...
03/09/07 by amicus in Oregon
A curious experiment of creating a muse to talk with and interact with, which of course one does in a way, and then again, sometimes the muse makes an abrupt departure for reasons sometimes not understood. Well done. amicus...

The Seven : Revisited

2006-07-10T00:01:00.000-04:00

NOW AVAILABLE AS AN AMAZON SHORT!

Below are the public comments left by readers while the first draft of The Seven: Revisited was posted on Literotica:

good job imp
11/11/05 by dreampilot79
Another stellar job Imp!

as always, carefully prepared and informative...
11/11/05 by sack in USA
Good luck...this deserves to place!

Well whaddya know....
11/11/05 by Extreme Bohunk in usa
In spite of all odds, I learned something new. Thanks.

...
11/11/05 by Elizabetht in SouthWest
As soon as I read the first name I knew where the names were from. As an African American woman the names resonant with me as the time for our celebrating comes close at hand. These are principals that more people should try and emulate. Always E

Good one imp.
11/11/05 by rgraham666 in Canada
Very realistic. Frightening, sad and uplifting by turns. Well done.

Moving
11/11/05 by hugo_sam
A truly moving emotionally wrenching story with a message for us all. wonderful. Thanks

Seven
11/11/05 by My Erotic Tale
Impressive as always Imp, I even got flash backs from last years read, a very indepth and moving tale, and up swing ending after a twist and turn ride on your write, Merry Christmas and Good Luck...Art~ (~_~)

A beautifully
11/11/05 by Daniellekitten in Michigan
written and emotionally overwhelming story. I love the poignant passing and the rebirth of Kuji. You stand by your name Imp..

Impressive
11/11/05 by Black Tulip
story. I especially liked the rebirthing. This kind of symbolism should not be limited to the Holiday Season. Good luck. Black Tulip

Beautiful
11/11/05 by SelenaKittyn
There is a particular tone to this piece that carries a quiet dignity and calm, in spite of the surrounding action. I really enjoyed this, I'm going back to read the first. Good luck!

Well done
11/16/05 by Rumple Foreskin in a state of collapse
agree with Selena about the tone, but I also thought the pacing and rythm of the piece was very effective. Good writing. Rumple

Incredible.
11/19/05 by ABSTRUSE
I'm so happy you continued the Seven. What a moving piece and a delight to read. An early Christmas gift. Abs.

Mistress of her Craft
11/19/05 by Colleen Thomas in USA
Everything you write is good, but these stories have a particular resonance and power. In them you display the kind of storytelling skill we all aspire too. -Colly

thank you
11/20/05 by Honey123
for continuing to write these stories the way only you can! ~Honey

No words...
11/20/05 by cookiejar in USA
Can even begin to tell you how your story affected me. What a truly beautiful piece of work. Good luck! Cookie :)

Powerful!
11/20/05 by Unsung Muse
I can't wait to go back and read the first piece. Best of luck to you in the contest!

It's lovely...
11/21/05 by Belegon in SoCal
...both the story and to see you branching out. You're a wonderful writer Imp. (sorry it took me a while to get here...been nano'ing ya know *wink*)

Imp...
11/21/05 by MistressJett
A well-written, bittersweet tale. Like some of the others, I need to go back and read the first now. Best of luck in the contest!

Excellent.
11/23/05 by vella_ms
but then i expect nothing more than excellence from you. my hope is that you continue with this saga. v~

Heartbreaking
11/23/05 by Aurora Black in Greece
I was moved to tears, Imp. You did great.

Well done
11/28/05 by Anonymous in USA
Tear jerking and bittersweet, worthy of an award!

Unexpected
12/04/05 by lil_elvis in USA
Not what I expected, but very glad that I read it.

Powerful, and moving
12/04/05 by Alex De Kok in UK
Not sure if I actually 'enjoyed' it, as enjoyment is a term I reserve for lighter things, but it certainly stirred me. Compulsive reading, a story beautifully told. Well done. Alex

Powerful and moving
12/05/05 by cloudy
Please continue with the story of these people, and their triumphs....I want more! Well done.

Good story...
12/05/05 by Anonymous in USA
I like it...it was educational and hot.

Great story
12/05/05 by Anonymous
Good luck in the contest ~rum

wow...
12/06/05 by gotwood49 in Florida
This was totally unlike anything I've read on Lit before. I didn't know what to expect, but you've certainly spurred my mind to thought, imp. An excellent effort. Thank you for the chance to experience this!

I have to agree...
12/07/05 by Louise Brown
...with many of the other comments here, Imp. I was drawn in and would've loved the story to have been longer. Nice to end it in the hope of the season though. Best of luck!

good showing
12/07/05 by CrimsonMaiden
of the spirit we are supposed to have during the holiday season and hopefully throughout the entire year. Well done.

~ ~ ~

The Seven

2006-07-05T00:01:00.000-04:00

NOW AVAILABLE AS AN AMAZON SHORT!

Below are the public comments left by readers while the first draft of The Seven was posted on Literotica:

Very Impressive~
11/11/04 by My Erotic Tail
Clever and witty tale, I was enlightened and didn't even know it. Your a zen master of pen! good luck and Happy Holidays Art~

I don't understand
11/12/04 by Anonymous
I have no idea why anyone would like this story. Sorry, but it's boring and poorly written. Don't just describe; tell a story next time, okay?

Exceptional
11/12/04 by Anonymous
Sometimes you have to be clever enough to interpret the meaning. Happy Holidays impressive and thank you!

The Medium is the Message
11/12/04 by oggbashan
I appreciated this story. I think it is appropriate to the season yet I would have liked more personal interaction between the characters. I thought it could benefitted by being developed into a longer story about the trials of obtaining the supplies. Some conflict about the claims of charity against commercial considerations and how the difficulties were overcome by co-operation between the seven playing on each others' strengths could have helped. Og

A very intriguing read
11/13/04 by Rumple Foreskin in Freedonia
I agree with Og that while this story is good, it could be even better. But you deserve a lot of credit for tackling something out of the ordinary, especially for Lit, and for the quality of your prose. Rumple

Agreeing
11/14/04 by Black Tulip
I enjoyed reading this story and think it's very appropriate to the season. But I have to agree with Og and Rumple, more interaction would make it an even better story. Good luck.

more please...
11/15/04 by sack in USA
This is an excellent premise for a longer story. Flesh out the characters more, have something happen beyond the ordinary, and you are all set! Good start!

Very deep...
11/16/04 by cookiejar in USA
But truly lovely writing. I hope it gets the votes it deserves. Good luck!

And the point is?
11/16/04 by Anonymous in USA
I simply couldn't enjoy this story. For one thing, there was far too much description without the support of dialogue to get a feel for the characters. Despite the emotional message of the story, it lacks a feeling of actual human emotion. For another, it's completely out of place. No offense, but this IS a site for erotica. You would be better off putting this on a normal story site.

I liked it
11/16/04 by ravenmx
I agree with most of the other comments, it would be nice if it was longer with more interaction between the characters and the trials and tribualtions that it takes to obtain supplies and keep the shelter open for that amount of people. However it is a great holiday story in the sheer fact that it is all very true. To many people go hungry and without shelter, especially around the holidays.

Thanks hun
11/16/04 by Colleen Thomas in USA
The key to any story in the holiday contest is to address the many feelings the holiday season conjures. This one approached part of it that I didn't know much about. Despite that, the very things you stress by down playing, warm food, shelter, family, are the things that mean the most at this time of year. -Colly

nice
11/17/04 by Anonymous in Chicago
all the best.

Impressive!
11/20/04 by Virtual_Burlesque
You have lived up to your name with this allegorical narrative, so appropriate at Christmas time.

:)
11/23/04 by CharleyH
Quite a beautiful tale, and very well written. Kudos.

IMP.....
11/24/04 by ABSTRUSE
You made me feel human emotions and despite the fact that one sad soul missed the whole point, I found that you've touched on a very important part of what the spirit is about and then using Kwanzaa as your base, brilliant. I learned something new today, thank you.

Quite unusual...
12/01/04 by Goldie Munro
and lovely! Well done.

Brilliant
12/03/04 by doormouse in Australia
That was simply fantastic!!!! It's good to see a story targeted at the unfortunate and the people who work effortlessly to give them some kind of shelter/normality to their lives. Christmas is a time for giving. Well done for getting that message across. I loved this one. And Imp, merry christmas to you and your family xoxoxoxox

Ambitious
12/07/04 by Anonymous in the void
but flawed. There are clumsy parts in the narration, superfluities. It needs polishing. Anonymous the first's comment about lack of characterization isn't quite accurate, and he has no call to say where you place your story. But it ought to involve the reader immediately; dialogue might be a good help toward that. You could begin with her hands being warmed inside, perhaps, or throw a quick scene of dialogue with one of the beggars you "tell, but not show." Show us more, tell us less often. consider each clause: is this necessary? and pare down. Once it's tight, a final edit to keep the symbols straight, an edit for no other purpose. You'll find that it will ring more clearly. I know you fought a deadline, but that's over. Polish and resubmit. This one could be one which would interest a print market. Magazines always need words, more words, and the holidays send them looking for the fresh. Don't send them this version when you can do much better.

I agree with several of these comments
12/07/04 by cantdog in Maine
including the void fellow. It is good to make a holiday story in a less bourgeois-comfy setting, among the homeless and the wretched where love is the more real for its shining from the rough. Your intent was very creative, but again, maybe the void guy has a point or two. This is a good solid idea, imp. You want any specific help? I am your servant. love cantdog

~ ~ ~

Knead

2006-06-30T00:01:00.001-04:00

NOW AVAILABLE AS AN AMAZON SHORT!

Below are the public comments left by readers while the first draft of Knead was posted on Literotica:

Nice one Alessia
02/20/06 by rgraham666 in Canada
I really liked the journey of the narrator, how she changed during the course of this short piece. And the little touches, like the sock, added a very nice fillip of realism to it. Nicely done.

Sweet.
02/20/06 by MistressJett
This is a very sweet piece. It pulled me right in - I could almost feel myself in that little room. :)

~
02/20/06 by sophia jane
Very well done and descriptive. Now I have to go get myself a massage, too.

Artistry
02/20/06 by hugo_sam in Lost in the '70's
How thoroughly enjoyable. You turned what could be the mundane into a journey of infinite possibilities. Moving, engrossing and well done. Thank you Hugo

Wonderful and insightful
02/20/06 by huelust in usa
This was written in such a beautiful, clear voice. I'm a bodywork therapist, and I really appreciated the way you conveyed the intimacy of touch and the sensitivity of the practitioner to navigate emotional boundaries. Wonderful!

Sensual and Erotic
03/03/06 by Belegon in Southern California
...and without any sex too...and this? "Is there any love deeper than the absence of fear?" *shiver* What a great line!

It takes me...
01/13/07 by inlovewithyourghost in USA
...to places I love to travel. Thank you for the journey. It's a beautiful story.

It was me...
01/13/07 by Fallenfromgrace in London
who was on that table. It was me. You made me feel like it was anyway. Wonderful, absolutely flawless motion from touch to thought, fear to tranquility. Wonderful.

~ ~ ~

Painted into a Corner

2006-06-25T08:00:00.000-04:00

(click to enlarge)

Down on the Beach

2006-06-20T12:00:00.000-04:00

Withdrawn for paid publication. Sorry.

~ ~ ~

push

2006-06-15T19:30:00.000-04:00

it's over
abundance of will waning
weightless tug of worth
push pinning hopes
pining away
pulling - back and forth
through days free
falling through the wisp
per wants born naked
in dark nested need
full, filling the still life
less touch and go; story
dying before our berth

~ ~ ~

Compact
06/17/06 by Liar
Almost overwhelmingly compact language. It takes focus to follow. But damn, worth it.

nice write
06/17/06 by My Erotic Trail
I enjoyed your poem (~_~)

I agree with Liar
06/19/06 by Belle_Ringer in USA
This is incredibly compact, dense I would even call it. I will have to read it many times to realize all I want in it.

I will be coming back to this one.
07/08/06 by
I would call it more mercury than lead--shifting sinuously from meaning to meaning, depending on the temperature of the reader.

Deep
07/08/06 by Awful Arthur
So deep that it may be bottomless. I found something new in each line every time I read it over again. At first, I thought that I was finding unintended meanings and effects but upon further readings, I think not--I'm finding very little of all that is there. I was particularly struck by the lines, "weightless tug of worth" and "dying before our berth" and the unjoined "wisp per."

an astonishingly good example....
07/09/06 by sack in USA
of "less is more!"

Short, sweet....
02/01/07 by Amyfriend in Ontario, Canada
and incredibly good.

Shout for Silence!

2006-06-10T07:20:00.000-04:00

This isn't my work, but ya gotta read Petula Caesar's poem Silence over at Clean Sheets. It rocks! Here's the link:

http://www.cleansheets.com/poetry/caesar_06.14.06.shtml

Ms. Stress

2006-05-30T08:00:00.000-04:00

paralyzed
by a pair of lies
omission and commission
an admission of naught
knot now
ties unbound
not yet
in time to realize
the real lies bound
to what applies
when a word implies
that the heart relies
on a pair of lies
paralyzed

~ ~ ~

Clever Wordplay
06/17/06 by McKenna
I enjoyed the way you played with words, "knot, not, naught." The rhythm of the poem and play on words reflects the jumbled emotions one feels when one discovers a lie. Very clever, well done.

~~
02/01/07 by LeBroz
Only the incomparable Alessia Brio could have pulled off such a fun word play piece without it coming across as a collection of words trivialized.

Fun
02/17/07 by SelenaKittyn
Such fun word play with such a not-so-fun subject. Ah juxtaposition...

Perfection
02/19/07 by vella_ms
There is a beauty and an art to expression with few words. This is how I view poetry. You are an artist. Wonderfully done.

Interesting
04/27/07 by Bill Dada
When it hurts so much, all you can do is laugh and play with words.

Ink's Kiss

2006-05-25T21:20:00.000-04:00

the right words
in the wrong ears
the right touch
on the wrong skin
the right kiss
on the wrong lips
the right time
for the wrong love
the right ink
on the wrong page

fluid

2006-05-20T08:00:00.000-04:00

i am the wine of peace
lingering on your lips

drink me
lest i fear

i am the river of hope
drowning you in desire

swim in me
lest i doubt

i am the blood of passion
burning in your veins

flow through me
lest i cool

i am the sweat of sex
dripping from your chin

satisfy me
lest i dry

i am the nectar of night
quenching your thirst

thank me
lest i wither

i am the dew of dreams
your morning memory

savor me
lest i forget

i am the water of truth
soothing your soul

hold me
lest i slip through your fingers

~ ~ ~

Damn!
05/24/06 by MistressJett
Made me shiver all over! I can hear you speaking the words, and... just damn. Your poem was mentioned in today's new poem reviews.

lovely
05/24/06 by ghost_girl
alessia I voted you a 5 because you made me smile. Your tender words are a soothing relief from the poetry forum, you are wise not to frequent on a day like toady' keep up the good work maria

~~
05/24/06 by LeBroz in —NY - too far from Atlanta
This poem was mentioned in Wednesday's New Poems Reviews.

Smooth
05/25/06 by hugo_sam in Lost in the 70's
Smooth flow with evident passion expressed well. Thanks Hugo

The Consistent Imagery...
07/03/06 by Belegon in San Diego
...and the lack of capitalization lend themselves to the vizualization I get when I read this, helping my imagination find it's way to a destination that is uniquely mine...but hopefully somewhere near where you intended the reader to wind up....well done.

^
12/06/06 by Bill Dada
Very, very...fluid. I liked.

Love's new commandments
01/18/07 by vella_ms
breath taking. im glad i stole these few moments to revel in your words.

Laced with...
02/01/07 by Amyfriend in Ontario, Canada
excited passion..and brings forth beautiful images. Very well done.

~ ~ ~

Now available on a poster! See: http://implexity.blogspot.com/2007/06/printed-poetry.html

There's Always Heaven

2006-05-15T09:30:00.000-04:00

Tapestry

2006-05-10T11:00:00.000-04:00

Hard leather buttons
atop cream suede
brush my lips
with cinnamon cisele

Wet crimson sheath
between passion and promise
draws my fingers
to'ard darkened depths

Warm caramel kisses
against crushed satin
pique my desire
to breathe pink

Smoky moiré sheen
over tender folds
blankets my tongue
with velvet throb

A whispered release
in panne waves
weaves my name
through dream's tapestry

~ ~ ~

~~
08/17/05 by LeBroz in NY - too far from Atlanta
Sensual delights of textures unfolded, you are truly ~ impressive

fascinating!
08/17/05 by sack in USA
But, what are "panne waves?" Guess I have to get out Webster!

~
08/17/05 by sophia jane
Well done, Imp, as always.

Tasty and texturized
08/17/05 by neonurotic
tantalized the senses in this erotic poem, Imp. Spectacular ;)

the title grabed me
08/17/05 by Anonymous
the last verse pulled by threads from the last verse...smooth...bluerains

Gotta Love
08/18/05 by Dar~ in USA
A poem based on material. Very elegant yet delicious tremors passed through me as I read it.

I love....
08/18/05 by Anonymous
.....the way you've used fabric in the fabric of your poem. It all fits together perfectly to make a rather erotic whole.. Tess

...
08/19/05 by minsue
*wistful sigh* Gorgeous, Imp.

Wow!
08/21/05 by Anonymous
Incredible images, beautiful. You actually made me drool!!

From Under the Bridge
08/27/05 by Trolly in U S of A
Better than some. Thanx.

Surrogate Sin

2006-05-05T10:00:00.000-04:00

The purgatory of potential
brings me to passion's altar:
prostrate acolyte.

Bless me, lover, for I would sin.

Take this, and eat of me.
The body of lust. Amen.

Though neither my hope
nor my prayer,
I lead myself into temptation.

Annoint me, lover, for I must sin.

Take this, and drink of me.
The blood of trust. Amen.

Though neither my promise
nor my pain,
he delivers only rapture.

Crucify me, lover, for I shall sin.

For thine is the kingdom
and the power
and the cock.

Hari-kari, full of disgrace
hallowed be our game
though I covet another
who art my heaven.

Before him I may kneel
in systolic communion,
but I shalt not fall
for my surrogate savior.

~ ~ ~

~~
08/20/05 by LeBroz in NY - too far from Atlanta
Oh, what an Imp! You speak so sweetly; I want to sin! Reminds me of an old story, the question being, "What is necessary to obtain forgiveness from sin?" as the 6 year-old answers, "Sin."

~ ~ ~
08/20/05 by Jennifer C
Your Poem was mentioned in Saturdays Review Thanks for sharing ~ ~ Jenn

~
08/20/05 by sophia jane
That's a helluva prayer Imp. Well done

oh my
08/21/05 by Anonymous
Wicked girl !!

Vivid
08/23/05 by logophile
And sharp. Your words cut through some heavy lines here and make everything oh-so-real. Nicely done.

leave it to the Imp...
08/23/05 by Belegon in Southern California
...to provide me with a new definition for "religious experience" *grin* Daring and delicious Imp.

well, bless me!
08/23/05 by OhMissScarlett in a blue state
I know you're not supposed to covet your neighbor's poem, but I really wish I'd written that one. What great rhythm. Thanks.

Let's hear a big Amen!
08/28/05 by Bill Dada in state of rapture
I am ready to drop to my knees in prayer. Finally a religion for the rest of us.

never / enough

2006-04-30T10:00:00.000-04:00

The knife of never
forever cuts
as you hold me ever
in the stasis of hope

Ever close enough
to taste tomorrow's touch
through the fresh scars
of yesterday

Forever far enough
to make me ever ache
for any way to dull
the edge of never

Yet the knife of never
forever sharpens itself
and bloods me daily
before sheathed in silence

~ ~ ~

Emotion
02/27/06 by hugo_sam in Lost in the '70's
The feeling of dispair and longing come forth strongly. Moving in it's simplicity. Well done. Hugo

Ouch!
02/27/06 by MistressJett
Damn, sweetie. I know that feeling all too well, and I understand how much it hurts. You put it into words very well. *hugs*

It's this part...
02/27/06 by Belegon in SoCal
...that is the clincher. "Ever close enough to taste tomorrow's touch" If all hope would finally vanish, if things were allowed to fade to memory, then that knife would dull. But to allow that to happen is against our obstinate nature. Beautiful words, mon ami.

wonderful read!
02/27/06 by oregon_gal
full of the stuff that keeps us on the edge.

ouch
02/27/06 by 4degrees
i know this kind of blade good write, hard i know. curt

Dark
03/03/06 by vampiredust
but beautiful. We all feel like this sometimes and you've described it wonderfully. Great read!

~~
03/04/06 by LeBroz in _NY - too far from Atlanta
A word A feeling; Both powerful weapons.

powerful....
03/05/06 by dcpoet44
nuff said......nicely done......don

mute

2006-04-25T10:00:00.000-04:00

giving, always giving
never asking someone
(not just anyone)
for love
for me --
just me.

needing
to be a priority
to someone
(not just anyone)

but

afraid that someone
(not just anyone)
would rather leave
than sacrifice anything
for me

and

unable to tell someone
(not just anyone)
what i crave --
for wondering
if it was freely given

or

borrowed against love
would cheapen the gift
and leave the true need
unfulfilled.

thus

my silence
is ever an invitation
for someone
(not just anyone)
to read my heart.

~ ~ ~

Givers and Takers
04/07/05 by The_Fool
Hard sometimes to know whether you can ask for love and get something back that is as honest as love freely given without the hint. As far as style, I was trouble at first by the someone (not just anyone phrasing, but the more I read it, the more I liked it because of the rhythmic repetition.

Spoke to me
04/07/05 by CrimsonMaiden
I can relate to the words of this poem. You say it so eloquently. :)

Mute...
04/07/05 by Bridget69 in Canada
speaks volumes about the silent need to be noticed and loved.

Imp~
04/07/05 by Anonymous
this is lovely. The title is perfect. ~Syn

A consumate rendition
04/08/05 by matriarch
of that sometimes overpowering yearning, that desire for someone (not just anyone) to love you........it resonates deeply inside me, and echoes my own enforced mute state. A powerful, yet gentle piece. Mat xxxx

Beautifully Non-traditional...
04/08/05 by Belegon in Southern California
...and a solid piece about the uncertainties we all face in relationships both old and new, casual and formal, defined and open to interpretation. This resonates within me.

I know what you mean
04/08/05 by rikaaim in Ohio, USA
Because I'm on the other side of your poem I know what you mean. I am the "not just anyone". Sadly. I hope your "not just anyone" sees how special you really are and does decide to sacrafice anything for you. I have made that choice for my special someone and have never been happier. I know they would do the same for me and your poem shows the same in you. You would sacrafice anything for this person. You express perfectly the emotions as well as the imagery of what your trying to convey. The format lends itself well to your point...allowing the reader short intermissions to really "think" about what you are saying. By leaving in the small gaps, one can't overlook any of the detail your trying to impress. Well done.

you really
04/08/05 by Anonymous
touched close to home with this one...very well done. Sabina

Beautiful
04/08/05 by LadyJeanne
Your work never fails to reach me. I can identify with the silence - not wanting to ask, fearing to ask, hoping you don't have to ask - and the belief that love is, or should be, freely given. Thanks, Imp. LJ

beautifully written
04/08/05 by sophia jane
I relate to this completely. Well done, Imp!

Not just anyone...
04/08/05 by Wanton Vixxxen in Misty eyed in Pennsy...
could write this exquisite piece and make it reach out from the screen and tug at the heart like you can, imp. I still feel the heart's strings pulling as I write the comment. Simply beautiful! Vixxx

not just anyone ...
04/08/05 by My Erotic Tail
could write such a masterpiece, a real pearl of a poem, I am totally impressed

*
04/09/05 by Anonymous
Painful, lonely and gray is this work. Lost in the pugatory of a desperate voice... powerful in the simplicity of the desires that all hold so close to their souls.. very well done Imp.. Du Lac~

**
12/22/05 by Miss Oatlash
The last stanza left me breathless.

I can relate
02/20/07 by angelicminx in love with the man of my dreams
My silence has been broken, however, because I have found my someone (not just anyone)... or should I say he's found me. :) ~Minx

false pretenses

2006-04-20T10:00:00.000-04:00

life's coarser intercourse
oft leads us in directions best
left untraveled
roads fraught with peril
to heart and soul
stealing tomorrow
from the jaws of today
truth lies in the soft
sighs of passion, the warmth
of a word and skin shared
without remorse we leave
only the shell of past pretenses
and the faint hope that our
hours will bleed no more

~ ~ ~

Beautiful
04/11/06 by vella_ms
all the way round each word. wonderfully expressed.

nice!
04/11/06 by cloudy
I loved this: "stealing tomorrow from the jaws of today." Exactly what some of us do. Nice work.

fabulous...
04/11/06 by ABSTRUSE
but I expect no less. Abs.

soft
04/11/06 by 4degrees
sighs passion me reminder again of truths, lies and make believe just don't convince me so much anymore. nice poem ma'am. curt

Elegantly expressed.
04/11/06 by Liar
I love that end... "... we leave only the shell of past pretenses and the faint hope that our hours will bleed no more"

Very nice
04/11/06 by neonurotic
I agree with your commenter, Liar. The end of this poem shines. Good work!

~~
04/11/06 by LeBroz in —NY - too far from Atlanta
Typical~no matter the name~always writing in such high quality, leaving the rest of the pretend poets struggling to meet the bar you always set so high.

Lovely
04/11/06 by Honey123
poem, gorgeous! this part: "roads fraught with peril to heart and soul" gave me such a pang in the middle of my tummy... ~Hony

Just put me down....
04/11/06 by sandspike
for what everyone has already written. Good JOB.

Nicely Done
04/11/06 by McKenna
You had me at "life's coarser intercourse..." At first reading, the lack of punctuation threw me; on the second and subsequent readings, I find it flows just fine without. I liked the imagery created with word combinations and pairs like "jaws of today" and "skin shared." I'm curious about the use of "hours [that]will bleed no more." You convey so much in so few lines; your talent is obvious. You tell just enough, but not too much. Nicely done.

No false pretenses about this!
04/12/06 by Wanton Vixxxen in reading perfection confection in Pa
This poem plunges to the core of the soul. If I had to choose one line from this poem it would be...uhhh...uhmmm... no, it would be impossible for Me to choose just one line Alessia. Each word married with the next and agreeing with another commentator, no punctuation would have enhanced this piece one bit. It is pure perfection! Vixxx

^
12/06/06 by Bill Dada
Ya, what they said. Very nice.

beautiful
01/18/07 by vella_ms
how easily you wove your words to simply state feelings, i think, we've all had before. god, i marvel at your talent.

Beautiful
03/26/07 by maggot420
Wonderfully written little gem. I love this.

need

2006-04-15T10:45:00.000-04:00

i could easily get it from her:
(com)passion
and understanding
and love

i could even get it from
*shudder*
him
sans understanding, anyway

i can't get it from them
they're far too young
to even want it
outside themselves

i could get it here
to some degree
from some (ir)regulars
who understand peripherally

but it's not only the what
that i need
it's the who, too
i want it from you

~ ~ ~

very good!
12/08/04 by WickedEve
Love this phrase: (com)passion

Very clever!
12/08/04 by postobitum
I really liked the *shudder*, for some reason in that context it made me think of back hair! lmao, good job!

Imp---impressive~
12/08/04 by Du Lac in usA
Imp.. I really liked this.. I can picture you sitting there and the faces of the ones you mention rolling thru your mind. the thoughts shared by so many.. spoken by so few... I felt you swimming in my mind.. great identification! That is a sure sign of good poems... when another says... yes.. yes..! Smiling for your prose was beautiful and clever! du Lac

your love song~
12/08/04 by My Erotic Tale
Ahhh heck, that was absolutely the best love song I have ever heard...oh ... I meant poem~ Impressed as always, each poem out impresses the next, very Impressive~

:)
12/08/04 by Maria2394
I really enjoyed this, the set up, the end, and the way you wove the "other" words in, good job :)

(Com)pact --
12/09/04 by foehn
rich, clear, beautifully woven and a bit sad. I see "want" in the verse, and "need" is the title, and I sigh, nodding agreement.

Shit...
12/09/04 by she_is_my_addiction in Bed
that's awesome. You have an amazing poetic voice! Good work!

Echos
12/09/04 by matriarch
so strongly in my own heart. I felt every word, every yearning syllable. As always your words touch the core.

Coin Toss
12/14/04 by Anonymous in U S of A
Flipped a coin for the rating. It generously came up to the higher of the two ratings. Not sure I agree.

Coin Toss ...
12/14/04 by Crapola in U S of A
... on whether or not you're an idiot. You lost.

I saw layers in this
12/14/04 by LadyJeanne
Gave me a wistful feeling on the first read - so many things matter for it to feel right! Then, it struck me as bold and pointed - yes, my needs can be filled elsewhere, but I choose you to do it. I'll be wondering which it is.

Great...
04/22/05 by Sub Joe
Really liked it, imp.

Not.......
04/22/05 by ABSTRUSE
Crapola. I think you've struck a chord in all of us.

~
11/27/05 by Bill Dada
Words that dance with feelings that haven't been asked to dance in a long time. ty,bd

Journey

2006-04-10T10:45:00.000-04:00

in the buoyant waters of hope, I
float
on the potential for a love that has the power to
tame
the persistent undertow of futility

currents of inky desire
swirl
in the turbulent vortex of my mind as your eyes
sparkle
with unspoken passion

no longer content to simply
drift
upon the sinuous waves of synchronous dreams, I
swim
against the tides of convention

silently begging you to
take
my hands and my heart and my hope, I
crash
upon the shores of your torment

while I did not
choose
to love you, I would not now
change
to avoid the roiling seas of controversy

fear thrives only on the surface, we finally
discover,
when with wonder we
dive
into the tranquil depths of our future

~ ~ ~

imp,
11/07/04 by
Good!

Loved it
11/07/04 by vella_ms
'a ship on the ocean, your anchor cast upon the rocky shore.' thank you, imp, for sharing those feelings in such an eloquent manner. great job! *hugs* v~

Stunning
11/08/04 by matriarch
I'm a sucker, firstly for portrayals of deep emotions, secondly for expressive language and extensive use of vocabulary, and thirdly, writing that combines those two and leaves me speechless with admiration. You got me, hook, line and sinker. Mat

nice effort
11/08/04 by Belegon in Southern California
Sometimes the simplest parts leap out at me. The passage that connects with where I am at the most right now is this: "while I did not choose to love you, I would not now change"

Great Stuff
11/09/04 by Goldie Munro
I really liked this - I loved the structure, imagery and emotion - well done!

And it is
11/09/04 by Honey123 in USA
I know you where you are coming from with this poem...I love it - it's like you are in my head. Great job!! Honey

Very nice
11/09/04 by flyguy69
I enjoyed this one, impressive; very nice imagery. The line breaking was a bit disruptive to me- it seemed to halt the flow of a very liquid poem.

Impressive indead~
11/13/04 by My Erotic Tale
a poetic icon and very inspirational, a witty and clever poet with a very good flare for hitting the heart string painting two beautiful pictures with one poem~ Art~

*sigh*
11/14/04 by lucky-E-leven in Texas, USA
Very stirring poem, having achieved the very difficult task of being applicable to a great many situations. I loved it. ~lucky

Amazing
08/28/05 by Bill Dada
when with wonder we dive into the tranquil depths of our future I think this is the third poem of yours that I've read and they all have kick ass endings. And beginnings and middles and everything else.

epitaph

2006-04-05T10:00:00.000-04:00

~ ~ ~

potential passes
with soft sayonara smiles
goodbye, tomorrow

~ ~ ~

Poignant
12/01/05 by cward2
Quite poignant words, fitting for an epitaph

amazing...
12/01/05 by cloudy
...that you managed to convey so much feeling with so few words. I was left with that sad feeling about doors I never opened. Very nice.

Moving
12/01/05 by hugo_sam in Lost in the '70's
Well done. So much emotion in a very concise group of words. Opportunities missed.

Nicely done..
12/01/05 by Elizabetht in SouthWest
Alessia... I am glad I found this today. Always, Lizzy

~
12/01/05 by Bill Dada
Intensely powerful. ty,bd

~
12/01/05 by sophia jane
I tend not to like haikus because they so rarely capture anything of consequence, but this is really well done. I don't know why I expected anything less from you!

I always think...
12/02/05 by Belegon in SoCal
...that one of the strengths AND weaknesses of the form is the similiarity to horoscopes. They can mean whatever you want them to mean depending on what you are thinking of when you read them. While that is certainly true of this, the title gives it direction. Wonderful. simply wonderful.

Short, sweet...
02/01/07 by Amyfriend in Ontario, Canada
and very well done.

Someone

2006-03-30T10:00:00.000-05:00

Somewhere
Someone
longs to touch you
rrrright ... there

Somewhere
Someone
imagines the scent
of your arousal

Somewhere
Someone
tastes your skin
in their dreams

Somewhere
Someone
wants to fall
into your eyes

Somewhere
Someone
hears the soft sighs
of your passion

Somewhere
Someone
aches to take you
beyond bliss

Somewhere
Someone
gets off
thinking of you

Everyone
has a someone.
I
am yours

* listen to it

~ ~ ~

Continuous Loop!
10/10/04 by Anonymous
It's playing over and over and over. Just love your voice!

Like Anon said....
10/19/04 by matriarch
This is an incredibly sexy recording.....no, its more than sexy. It gets inside your head and under your skin, the timbre of the voice, every nuance of expression....the desire is palpable, I can FEEL it, every drop of it. I feel it with you. When I first heard this I was overwhelmed....and also played it for hours on a continuous loop. I was a wet rag when I finally turned it off. I still listen but have to limit myself - a girl can only get wrung out so many times in one day, can't she? Absolutely .....Imp, absolutely. I've run out of words. Mat xxxxxxx

Can I vote an extra five?
11/30/04 by Rumple Foreskin in Beyond
Imp, As the "good ole boys" west of Fort Worth say, "That was hotter'n a two-dollar pistol." :) I enjoyed both versions. For me, it was a reminder of the different techniques and challenges involved with the written and spoken word. IMHO, your reading was excellent, providing pause and emphasis that would have been hard to achieve in print w/o distracting the reader. Thanks for both the read, and the listen. Rumple

~~
01/07/07 by LeBroz in — NY - too far from Atlanta
Here's a piece from a couple years back ~ still sizzlin'!

I See

2006-03-25T10:30:00.000-05:00

I see you.

No,
not the you
you want the world to see.

I see
YOU:

the liar you
denounce;
the sycophant you
abhor;
the coward you
despise;
the fraud you
blast
with righteous indignation.

I see you
writhe
on the altar of inconsistency.

I see you
struggle
to be the you
you want the world to see.

I see you
in me.

~ ~ ~

girl....
02/11/06 by Maria2394
this IS good. really fucking good. I wish I had written it. xoxox ~maria

Wow!
02/11/06 by cloudy in Alabama
that last line is a left hook out of nowhere! Great job!

~
02/11/06 by WickedEve
What a good poem. I saw the title and wasn't very tempted to read it, but I'm glad I did. :)

Unexpected...
02/11/06 by dysphemist
and powerful ending!

mentioned
02/11/06 by My Erotic Trail
Your poem was mention on the thread, NEW POEMS REVIEWS... Thanks for the literary journey ~Art~

Love the way...
02/11/06 by Belegon in SoCal
...it starts external and then becomes an inner rant. Spare, compact and effective.

~~
02/12/06 by LeBroz in _NY - too far from Atlanta
Seeing what's often missed ~ The I in the other Reflected back... Well done.

Wow
02/12/06 by Harry Leg in Canada
I love this one. Still reeling from the left hook.

Damn...
03/08/06 by MistressJett
Honey, I totally feel this one; perfectly articulated emotion.

Powerful
03/26/06 by hugo_sam in Lost in the '70's
Moving through a thoughtful, intense rant to be brought up short in self-realization. Powerful and moving. Thank you Hugo

It Comes

2006-03-20T10:30:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow
stalks us
sleek and hungry
and hot

We are its prey;
our conflicting desires its blood scent:

the phenomenal –
devouring all else
impossible to surpass
or even again equal
devastating in its perfection;

the sublime –
whetting its appetite for more
and more and still more
addicting in its repletion;

and the just good enough –
making it well worth risk
but not worth repeat
liberating in its extinction.

We cling to fading strength
as it circles, ravenous.
Relentless.
Our cave of will
scant shelter. Vigilance
no longer enough to keep
the inevitable at bay.

It comes.

~ ~ ~

Beautiful
02/18/05 by vella_ms
inevitable. it will be and little you can do about it feeling, for me, was very strong. beautifully done... wistfully, v~

*
02/19/05 by twelveoone
it does very nice

*
02/19/05 by Anonymous
Good job, Imp! I like it... very much. Thanks.

I wish...
02/19/05 by WickedEve
this was mine: Tomorrow stalks us sleek and hungry and hot

I
02/19/05 by Jennifer C
Liked this one alot Imp, especially the last few lines, really well done!

mentioned
02/19/05 by My Erotic Tale
your poem was mentioned on the thread "New Poems Reviews" thanks for the journey

Thought provoking.
02/19/05 by Bridget69 in Canada
Clearly shows that we are all powerless againt the passing of time. Nicely told!

Excellence
02/19/05 by lindiana in USA
Passionate prose, filled with the need to warn and explain. Urgency written within, making it a fast read. Absolutely marvelous. Thank you.

"Impressive"
02/20/05 by sack in USA
As is everything by this author....I am speechless!

My feelings exactly...
02/22/05 by angelicminx in Kentucky
...captured completely in your powerful use of language!

Wonderful
02/26/05 by Shadowskill Knight
That was simply wonderful. Beautiful use of language and style. Very impressive, Imp!!!

Wow.
02/26/05 by entitled
i'm usually not a big fan of poetry, but this one is wonderful. It gave me the feeling of being stalked by something large and... not necessarily cruel, but ruthless.

tomorrow
03/01/05 by Anonymous in Southern California
Well captured Imp, the dangers and frustrations of possiblities. "Potential" may well be the world's most complicated curse word. Many layers in this work.

beautiful
03/02/05 by sophia jane
You have a way with words that I envy! Another excellent piece!

Interesting
03/02/05 by sexmate
Never thought of it like that. Hmmmmmmmmm.

Whew!!
03/03/05 by Goldie Munro
Powerful stuff! Beautifully written.

This is soooooooooo......
03/03/05 by ABSTRUSE
Not crapola. It's reeks of truths.

Your poetry
03/03/05 by LadyJeanne
is devastating in its perfection. And addicting... Thank you, Imp. LJ.

Wow!
03/04/05 by Anonymous
Hot and tasty. Great writing. Syn

It came...
11/27/05 by Anonymous
...and I couldn't find my cave. ty,bd

dream coding

2006-03-15T09:20:00.000-05:00

pale words hang in sterile air
once charged with fiery hope
faint fading pulses
'neath translucent skin -
grey blue on glass bone

life whisper rasps
through parched lips
to caress my mind
still
achingly beautiful
still

rapt by feathery wings of light
the dream floats free
bathed in the flatline glow

eerie embers of optimism
expire with one last gasp
one last tear
one lasting scar

~ ~ ~

'less is more?
12/09/05 by Maria2394
I like this. It has a sad quality. I do not know if you intended this, imp, but it comes across as the end, or near the end of a life. reminds me of my grandma. anyway, you did an excellent job with your descriptions, and a good job putting in the feeling. good work;)

Pleasant enough.
12/09/05 by TheRainMan
But I find this poem far too heavy with adjectives to have any real chance of saying too much. I think to improve the quality of your writing, you need to be more spare with adjectives and let the nouns and verbs move the poem forward. Modifiers can't do that. They are the shadow, not the image.

This is good
12/09/05 by cward2
I liked the second stanza the most. This is a well crafted poem but I have to agree with TheRainMan, especially with the first stanza. You have created some really great images, but remember brevity and of suggestion. Aside from that, a good poem!

Flowing
12/10/05 by hugo_sam in Lost in the '70's
Literate, compelling use of words. It does strike me as sad and final. Beautiful.

•)
12/11/05 by lobomao in santa Yerba Buena
as it all fades away awash in gray dreams and memories departing steam exhales in winter we stand on the runway as sighted down flat flight lines we watch and wave good bye

~
12/11/05 by Bill Dada
Seems to be about shadows, so it is appropriate that it feels like shadows. ty,bd

haunting
02/09/06 by SelenaKittyn
This is a haunting poem. Your words are compelling. Beautiful.

Beautifully written
02/12/06 by Harry Leg in Canada
I love the way this is written. Economy of verse. Wonderful. I loved it.

Very inspiring....
02/01/07 by Amyfriend in Ontario, Canada
well done.

drifting

2006-03-10T09:15:00.000-05:00

captivatingly cruel
she draws my eye
frigid yet frail

sun-drenched distraction
oblivious to her
blinding beauty

perilously pristine
peppermint pane-cicles
drip drop from frozen lips

crystal blood
from an icy heart
on ivory eaves

so like my hope
melting in the winter
of passion's promise

~ ~ ~

~
02/01/05 by WickedEve
This is a very good poem! This is cool line: peppermint pane-cicles

A creative
02/01/05 by neonurotic
interesting metaphor, with fresh phrasing. Enjoyed.

I must admit
02/01/05 by minsue
this was my pick of the monthly contest poems, though I had no idea it was yours. Well done, Imp! (in case you haven't heard, I'm a whore for alliteration...)

Tweedly-neat!
02/01/05 by DeepAsleep
Enjoyed this! Clever alliteration always makes me grin, and as has already been said, it's a neat little metaphor. However, I had a question about this stanza: sun-drenched distraction oblivious to her blinding beauty The line break from second to third line feels off kilter, to me, maybe because the third line doesn't feel like a complete thought. My brain kept binding here, in rereads, so I thought I'd point at it and look confused. Loved it, on the whole! ~D.A.

Nice to see this out and about.
02/02/05 by sandspike
I'd said this is IMPRESSIVE....but u already knew that. Drifting was my favorite.

Sigh ...
02/03/05 by cookiejar in USA
To write poetry like this is a gift. Wonderful Imp!

Hook!
02/03/05 by vella_ms
Isn't that what you say? especially loved: "...crystal blood from an icy heart on ivory eaves..." beautiful.

drifting~
02/03/05 by My Erotic Tale
Impressive~ I too picked this poem I am impressed, had no idea who wrote it but I loved it, ...drifting an excellent #1 POEM for Janurary chilling I meant drifting~ great job~

Mmm, baby!
02/05/05 by mismused
Pane-cicles? Passion in the winter gone awry? Do I remember correctly? Wonderful poem, Imp. A professional writer expanding her realm. I like.

The Second Person

2006-03-05T16:00:00.001-05:00

The Second Person is now available as an ebook.

~ ~ ~

Well done
06/28/05 by cheerful_deviant
One of the few 2nd person stories that I've read that actually work. Good one Imp. CD
The first!
06/28/05 by Anonymous in Geordieland, UK
Second-person POV, that is, that I ever enjoyed. Probably because it's essentially a soliloquy, I think. Whatever, an enjoyable read. Well done.
2nd person pov + humour = impressive!
06/28/05 by fifty5 in UK
I was feeling down... Read this and was smiling again!
Wonderful!
06/29/05 by hot zone in usa
Loved this story! The combination of humor & raw sex is great; after all, sex IS fun, right?
Keith Jackson be damned!
06/29/05 by Belegon in Southern California
I now have a new association with the phrase "Whoa Nelly!".
wow!
07/13/05 by OhMissScarlett in us
Usually a point of view like that would totally lose me, but this had me hooked from the beginning. It reminded me of a public service announcement, only it was being done by your main character's libido. Very original and hot and funny at the same time.
You win
08/07/05 by lil_elvis in NJ USA
Proved me wrong about 2nd person only working in a letter format. Blew me away. *GRIN* Great work, imp. (Not that I'm surprised). lil_e
:)
08/07/05 by CharleyH
Excellent effort - exceptionally smooth. Good story too! I have more to say, but mostly to ask, so will elsewhere ...
Wow!
02/27/06 by MistressJett
This is awesome, funny and hot all at once. Thanks for sharing, doll. :)
Amazing
05/29/07 by maggot420
Absolutely wonderful. You are an immense and truly impressive talent. I am astounded by your talent and skill.

ex sighs

2006-02-25T09:30:00.000-05:00

Cut this hope from my heart
so that only love remains –
without crushing need
to hold;
to have.

Strip my world of want,
and let me breathe
through scar.

Empty my soul of blood
so that a word, mayhap,
cannot wound.

Catch my passion
as it dries;
as it dies.

~ ~ ~

Hope and Love
05/25/05 by vella_ms
tightly interwoven... hard to have one without the other. great job, impster. you know i love your schtuff. time for another, please.

mention
05/25/05 by Anonymous
mentioned in todays reviews

Searing
05/25/05 by LadyJeanne
I marvel at your ability to capture the 'completeness' of a complicated set of emotions, and express it simply, yet with such rich imagery. Very well done. I share the sighs, sweets, and the wish to ease the pain. Thank you. LJ

*Sigh
05/25/05 by Honey123
Your poetry is like a hand that reaches in and grabs at my inner being. You words always touch me. Great job, Imp ~Honey

why does pain...
05/25/05 by Belegon in Southern California
...make for such beauty? Because we have to get this out of us before it eats our hearts to dwindled nubs that fetally quiver when touched...pity those who can't let it out. I do.

This one....
05/25/05 by Samandiriel
is the best...not that the others sucked but the sheer symplicity captures the bigger picture. I didn't have the heart to bomb it...it's too good. I'll wait to bomb your next story before the other trolls do.

wow
05/25/05 by Jennifer C
that one hit me hard! It's amazing how much beauty can come from so much pain. Great work, thanks. ~ J

Exquisite ex sighs...
05/25/05 by Wanton Vixxxen
of both pain and poetry were expressed here. Imp, you have a way with your words that cut straight down to the marrow of the bone before we realize we're bleeding! As per your usual, an emotionally wretching piece flowed from your pen. Superb job! Vixxx

Beautiful
05/25/05 by AppleBiter in USA
I loved it . . . nicely done.

WoW
05/26/05 by ~hellbaby~
Seems like it has all been said, it's like the pain of losing a child thats what I think of when Iread this Thanks

Deadly limits to love
05/27/05 by cantdog in admiration
The second strophe-- especially hard-hitting.

just....just...just.......
05/27/05 by dcpoet44
brutally excellent. all else has been covered........nicely done......don

Pain...
11/27/05 by Bill Dada
...like this doesn't sigh, it screams. In the right hands those screams are fuel for art. Apparently your hands are the right hands. A very powerful write. ty,bd

Exit 7

2006-02-20T10:30:00.000-05:00

driving from desire to duty
vision obscured by the distortion
of liquid hope as it again
escapes
softening the crust of dried futility
and the salty taste of tomorrow
on unkissed lips
holding on to life
by nothing stronger than the
surface tension
of a tear

~ ~ ~

I wasn't
01/09/05 by Tathagata
sure about this till the last line. It makes the whole thing work. I think a few commas would help with some pauses... otherwise I liked it alot. Amazing how much can be said in so few words. Thank you

impressive~
01/09/05 by My Erotic Tale
astounding~ Impressive~ Moving~ I agree, the short stack of words send you on a mental journey far far away. excellent poem~

Deeply moving
01/09/05 by minsue
and beautifully descriptive, Imp

Damn...
01/09/05 by jthserra
one of the best I have read of yours. This is the first that drew me to comment, but wow, nicely done. Concise but stark, you grabbed my interest and then took my breath with your closing lines: "holding on to life by nothing stronger than the surface tension of a tear" inspiring and yes... impressive. Nicely done. jim : )

woah
01/09/05 by Liar
Such a tense, dense write. The last lines are just perfect: "holding on to life by nothing stronger than the surface tension of a tear"

yes, impressive
01/09/05 by annaswirls
The words of this poem are tense and intense, beautifully written... (I cannot believe I am going to say this, as I struggle so much myself) but you might consider changing the line breaks.

Well I agree with all the comments, but
01/11/05 by foehn
nobody mentioned the *title*. This is a *great* short poem, but ye gods, didn't you get shivers up your spine when that title came to you? It works so powerfully for me ... am I off-track? I'm re-examining the way I title things. Maybe I'm just getting weird in my old age.

"...salty taste of tomorrow..."
01/12/05 by vella_ms
perfection. loved this poem. your words convey so much in such a short piece. kudos gorgeous.

Touching
01/15/05 by in NJ USA
and deeply moving.

This gets the wheels turning.....
01/15/05 by sack in USA
probably purposefully vague, there are many possible scenarios: A mistress going to work after sex, Exit 7 is her work exit. A newlywed girl leaving her husband after their first night as a married couple, again Exit 7 is the work exit. A couple about to separate/divorce, this was their last night together. Exit 7 is the exit to the woman's new home. A lesbian couple that cannot stay together for various reasons, one of the women is getting a job in a new state, Exit 7 is the exit for the new job. Of course, we don't know if the protagonist is DEFINITELY a woman, but since a woman is writing a poem, I'm assuming a woman is suggested here. Good job, Impressive! (Perhaps I should have made this a poll?)

Suprising Strength
07/24/05 by ~hellbaby~
This is wonderful, the line 'nothing stronger than the surface tension of a tear' grabbed me,it is so powerful. thanks

Your name here
08/28/05 by Bill Dada
Every word mattered and worked magic. The last four lines made the elephant disappear in front of a live audience.

Impressive
02/20/07 by angelicminx in Kentucky
Once again you moved me. Thank you! ~Minx

Memorize Me

2006-02-15T10:30:00.000-05:00

stilled life in darkness poised
repose under the raspberry blush
of a veiled aperture

dawn's kiss parts draped night
bringing day in diffusion

pierced by the shudder speed
of stilled loving;
a shutter sped on vocal lengths

breathless interlude captured;
freeze framed in naked contrast
and ambient wonder

tastes of shadow and sunlight
on sheets and skin
in the peppermint blink of mind's eye

forget not
the monochromatic simplicity
seen through passion's lens
on a stolen Sunday morning

~ ~ ~

Lovely
11/22/05 by vella_ms
how i know that feeling! wonderfully conveyed. Keep it up! v~

*
11/22/05 by Anonymous
I really liked this. Thanks. Curiouswife

no many poems about cameras....
11/22/05 by sack in USA
this one was brilliant!

not many poems about cameras....
11/22/05 by sack in USA
this one was brilliant! (and you deserved 100, not 50, my mistake!)

~
11/23/05 by Bill Dada
In the 'peppermint blink of mind's eye' I gave it a 5. ty,bd

Captured
11/24/05 by hugo_sam in Lost in the '70's
What a wonderful expression of the capture of that moment: fulfilment and satisfaction. Well Done

well done......
11/26/05 by dcpoet44
even though the title wasn't an eye grabber, the rest of sure did.

I love...
11/27/05 by Belegon in SoCal
the way you use monochromatic and hint at black and white while also using things like "raspberry" & "peppermint" that hint at color...

Lovely
11/27/05 by yui
"stilled life in darkness poised" I love that line. It has the bones of something great in it. Well done!

~
11/27/05 by sophia jane
"peppermint blink" is an excellent phrase! Another great poem

Adore the Sentiment
08/11/07 by lucky-E-leven
Artfully told from the eye of a camera; it's the perfection of the moment that makes me want to never forget a single detail. You captured that nicely here. I'd be happy for the chance to Memorize you.