Tag Archives: erotica

Welcome to Bizarro Land!

Okay, so. Yesterday produced about 4000 more words on the new erotic short story, “Half-Moon Bride.” And I’m still nowhere near done.

So that means that once again, today, I will be spending unending hours writing intensely erotic stuff about 2 hermaphrodites on their wedding night. Not a topic that I ever dreamed I would spend even a moment’s time thinking about, let alone carefully crafting.

I’m still having a blast doing it, but it is so fucking strange. Mostly because I have no clue where this story is coming from.

Anyway.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that the summer that I was 14, my boyfriend — with whom I was incredibly obsessed — was killed in an accident. And today marks the 46th anniversary of his death.

Even though it’s really sunny out right this minute, it is supposed to thunderstorm most of the day, and the drive to the cemetery is an hour each way. So I have decided not to go to the grave today, and just stay home and work on the short story.

I do honestly believe he visited me this morning, when I was down at my kitchen table, writing in my Inner Being journals. He came through with a few sentences, even though I wasn’t asking him to, or anything. But I do think he really did that. When I was a lot younger, he would sometimes visit me in spirit, but I was too young to have any frame of reference for that kind of thing back then and so it would terrify me. Nowadays, I’m used to that kind of thing, but he doesn’t visit me, ever. He’s been gone such a long time. So I certainly wasn’t expecting anything today, and yet I do think it happened.

He basically said that Life is not what it seems to be, and to remember what was beautiful, and to focus on what’s coming, don’t look back.

So I think he might have also been saying to leave sad things like graves alone for today, and work on a story that’s making me feel happy, instead.

Well, when I went back upstairs with my coffee, I went to the storage closet and got out my yearbooks from Junior High School (they call it Middle School nowadays, but back then, it was Junior High). And even though High School yearbooks are what most people keep & treasure & all that, for some reason (well, partly because I hated High School), I have no yearbooks left from High School but all 3 of the ones from Junior High.

Two of them have photos of Greg in them and those are now the only photos I have of him. I have moved so many times in the 46 years that  he’s been gone.

So here he is — in the full length one, he is 14. He was really tall, but you can’t tell from the photo. You can’t really tell much at all from the photo because he seems to have been in the middle of laughing.

And then there’s a yearbook photo of me from the same year, at age 12. I’m in the 7th grade. (Where my hair is longer)

And then in the other photo of him, he is 15 (graduating Junior High that year,  so that’s why his photo is more “formal”.) And he will be dead a few months later.

Then me, that same year, at age 13. When it became extremely fashionable to have really thin eyebrows!

I did have a real fondness for plaid palazzo pants back then, too…

Greg 1973

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MJL  12 years old

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Greg 1974

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MJL 13 years old

Anyway, there it is — all that’s left, really, from those brief years.

They were awful, by the way — worst years of my life. If you have read Letter #2, “A Beach to His Waves,” from my in-progress memoir, Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse, Greg is the boy I was writing about there.

It is best to try to remember what was beautiful from back then and let the rest go and just face forward. So that’s what I’m going to do.

Okay, that’s it for today. Have a good Thursday. Thanks for visiting, gang. I’ll leave you with sacred music. John Rutter conducting the Cambridge Singers, “All Things Bright & Beautiful,” one of my favorite hymns, and my very favorite version of it. Enjoy. I love you guys, see ya!

All Things Bright and Beautiful

Refrain:
All things bright and beautiful,
all creatures great and small,
all things wise and wonderful,
the Lord God made them all.

1 Each little flow’r that opens,
each little bird that sings,
he made their glowing colors,
he made their tiny wings. [Refrain]

2 The purple-headed mountain,
the river running by,
the sunset, and the morning
that brightens up the sky. [Refrain]

3 The cold wind in the winter,
the pleasant summer sun,
the ripe fruits in the garden,
he made them, ev’ry one. [Refrain]

4 The tall trees in the greenwood,
the meadows where we play,
the flowers by the water
we gather ev’ry day. [Refrain]

5 He gave us eyes to see them,
and lips that we might tell
how great is God Almighty,
who has made all things well. [Refrain]

© 1848 Cecil Frances Alexander (Words)

Dear Diary, Yet Again, Life Continues to Astound and Amaze!!

Wow, I got more great writing done on that new erotic short story yesterday, gang. (See yesterday’s post re: “Half-Moon Bride“) It’s evidently going to be a longer short story — maybe 10,000 words or so? Maybe more? I’m going to try to finish it today, but I honestly have no clue. Everything about this story seems to be coming to me from out of nowhere, so I’m just flowing with it!!

I can say that it is making me really happy. I’m having a lot of fun with it. And even though I have an overall, general idea of where it’s heading, I can’t really say for sure how we will get there. But in the meantime, it’s a great ride.

I think we are all finished with the cover layout for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. So now I guess we put it all together and I order a test print. That’s exciting, because even if it needs some tweaks or fixes (they usually do), it will be such a joy to have that novel in my hands finally as an actual printed book.  It feels like it’s taken forever for that to happen. (Although, in reality, it’s probably the same length of time it took, in the old days, for traditional publishers to print my books, and in some cases, this has been way shorter. Still. I feels like forever.)

So I’m really happy.  And then we will move forward with all the rest of it. After I give Valerie maybe, I don’t know — a 5 minute break?

Okay. Well, yesterday was all about rain and torrential downpours for a change. But today — so far — it’s back to being a sunny day.  And there was indeed a schoolbus back in the neighborhood, early this morning. So here’s hoping we can just move on.  I am just so ready to be over it. I’ll wear my mask when I’m supposed to wear it, but other than that, I’m done with it. Done looking at the numbers. Done worrying about it. Done wondering where it’s heading and when it will stop.

I don’t know about you, but psychologically, I simply need to move on and make decisions based on a (new) normal life. It’s been 5 fucking months already, at least out here around Muskingum County.

So, in that vein, I’m going to finish up the laundry and get down to work on the short story here. I know this is a brief post, but all I’m really focused on right now is the short story.

I hope you have a great Wednesday underway, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. I’m going to leave you with something I’ve posted here before, but I totally love it and it was the first song that popped into my head at breakfast this morning — Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, doing a live cover of an old Dave Clark 5 hit, “Anyway You Want It.” (The best kind of lover to have, in my opinion!!)

This is the version off of the Live Anthology (the song was recorded on June 11, 1983, at a concert in Irvine California). There are a couple of bootleg albums out there, too, that have great versions of this song. But I haven’t posted this version to the blog before, so enjoy! It is such a great upbeat song for a great upbeat kinda morning. All righty! Have a great Wednesday. I love you guys. See ya.

Who the Heck Knows Anything, Right??

So much for working on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town yesterday.

For some unknown yet delightful reason, I suddenly began writing a new erotic short story yesterday — I didn’t even know it was lurking in there, even though I do want to write more erotic short stories (see yesterday’s post). I came back from the market, put the groceries away, sat down at my desk and suddenly, the story was there.

It’s maybe almost halfway finished. I’m already at 4000 words. (I know! So odd, right? How stories will just suddenly come. Aside from speaking with Valerie for a bit yesterday, I was working on the short story for 9 hours, and will be working on it all day today, too.)

And what’s even all-out weirder is that it’s a futanari story. Futanari is now pretty much only a hentai porn term for hermaphrodites (generally: extremely sexy females who also have huge cocks) (in hentai animation). But it used to be more of a Japanese folklore term, a long  long time ago.

But anyway, I am not into futanari porn.  I find androgyny sort of appealing, a tiny bit, maybe,  but not enough to think I would ever in a million years write about it erotically. Ever.

And yet… 4000 words later, I’m not even halfway done.

So strange. But I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

The story is titled “Half-Moon Bride”. In Japanese folklore, a “half-moon” futanari was someone of one sex who switched sexes on the full moon. So I’m guessing you can kinda see where the bride on this particular wedding night is headed…. (and our poor bride has no idea what she is yet, but as luck would have it, she’s marrying a full-futa and so he/she is going to be able to help her out with that.)

I won’t go into any more of the details. Obviously, it’s hardcore fantasy erotica which is not the kind of erotica I usually write. So everything, on every level of this story, has been a complete surprise to me.

Well, okey-dokey.

The trip into town yesterday was illuminating. With school starting back this week, the grocery store was empty. However, the Home Depot parking lot next door to it was jammed. And some of the more breakfast-type restaurants were busy again (by social distancing standards). But, overall, lots less cars on the streets.

Going back to school seems to still change everything, with or without COVID. It just signals: Fall is coming. (And yet, it’s still August…)

Anyway. Life’s good.

Valerie and I are just about ready to sign off on the cover layout for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. And then I can order my test print and see if I’m happy or not. I still have to format the ePub file, but once I do that, the eBook will be published, too.

So we are almost there.

Well, I’m going to get started here today. I hope you are having a truly terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world!! I leave you with a song I have posted here before — one of my favorite songs by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, “Do You Love Me (Part 2),” from that truly amazing album Let Love In from 1994 (which seems like yesterday, but my higher math skills assure me it was 26 years ago… wtf???). However, in case you missed it the last time I posted it, here it is again!! So enjoy and thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

“Do You Love Me? (Part 2)”

Onward! And Onward! And Onward I go
Where no man before could be bothered to go
Till the soles of my shoes are shot full of holes
And it’s all downhill with a bullet
This ramblin’ and rovin’ has taken its course
I’m grazing with the dinosaurs and the dear old horses
And the city streets crack and a great hole forces
Me down with my soapbox, my pulpit
The theatre ceiling is silver star-spangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

There’s a man in the theatre with girlish eyes
Who’s holding my childhood to ransom
On the screen there’s a death, there’s a rustle of cloth
And a sickly voice calling me handsome
There’s a man in the theatre with sly girlish eyes
On the screen there’s an ape, a gorilla
There’s a groan, there’s a cough, there’s a rustle of cloth
And a voice that stinks of death and vanilla
This is a secret, mauled and mangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

The walls of the ceiling are painted in blood
The lights go down, the red curtains come apart
The room is full of smoke and dialogue I know by heart
And the coins in my pocket jingle-jangle
As the great screen crackled and popped
The clock of my boyhood was wound down and stopped
And my handsome little body oddly propped
And my trousers right down to my ankles
Yes, it’s onward! And upward!
And I’m off to find love
Do you love me? If you do, I’m thankful

This city is an ogre squatting by the river
It gives life but it takes it away, my youth
There comes a time when you just cannot deliver
This is a fact. This is a stone cold truth.
Do you love me?
I love you, handsome
But do you love me?
Yes, I love you, you are handsome
Amongst the cogs and the wires, my youth
Vanilla breath and handsome apes with girlish eyes
Dreams that roam between truth and untruth
Memories that become monstrous lies
So onward! And Onward! And Onward I go!
Onward! And Upward! And I’m off to find love
With blue-black braclets on my wrists and ankles
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

© 1994 Nick Cave