Visceral Lit











{June 21, 2007}   Greetings and Delays

Pardon the long wait between posts, readers. Please excuse as well, the lamentable lack of images in the last.

I have been on vacation, and currently do not have access to the library of wonderful art I usually use to enhance my little stories. I’ve missed being here, though and I’m glad to be coming back again.

Please enjoy my newest story. I know I did. And check back again soon for links, reviews and perhaps some words about my vacation. The Visceral Lit you have become used to will resume full publication in early July. If you need more erotica sooner, check out the Visceral Lit amazon store in the sidebar.

xXx

Pria



{June 2, 2007}   and a she makes three

I forgot how much firmer I was when I was young. Touching her now, I was surprised at the taut skin. Her breasts, full and round, rose to meet my hand and I sqeezed, gently testing the resistance. The skin yielded little but the woman’s lips parted, a flash of white teeth showing briefly between lips flushed and swollen with our kisses.

I was entranced by her face, spasms of pleasure distorting her smooth features as our partner’s mouth lightly fluttered over her labia. My hand crept to my own pulsing clit, wet already though it had not yet been touched tonight. I lowered my lips to the nipples which stretched toward me, never taking my eyes off her features.

Her throat expanded to allow a small sound, something between a moan and a cry which escaped her lips and was chased away by the glistening tip of her tongue. I ran the tips of my fingers over those lips, now pulling the lower one down slightly to meet my approaching kiss. My body slid over the sheets, drawing itself against hers to press my wetness against her thigh.

A small sound escaped the lips of the man between her legs and he grasped at his own cock, turning it towards me. Obligingly I slid my body down her leg, a trail of my juices tracing the friction of her smooth, tight skin against my clit. Locking my legs around his, I slid myself across his cock. It had grown huge, standing out as it had never before. It throbbed against me and burnt to the touch.

His lips broke free and he grasped her hips with muscular, sinewy hands to pull her with him as his body turned to accomodate me.

I knelt above him and continued my traverse along his trembling form. Settling my cunt against his ankle, I lightly trailed my hands over his abdomen and up the inside of his thighs. As his legs parted, his ankle drew up between my lips, pulling tightly against me and it was my turn to moan before plunging his cock deeply into my mouth.

She had settled on her knees and braced against the wall and now she ground herself against his furious, frolicking kisses.

His hands clasped over the blankets, gripping them tightly and taking up fistfuls of the bed as his body arched to our ministrations. They let go abruptly to feel up her body to her breasts. Feverish fingers trailed over her lips and then slid rapidly back down to her hole. Gently, slowly he pressed two inside as he turned his tongue to her swollen clit.

She cried out first and he tugged his cock out of my mouth as it twitched, threatening to explode down my throat. Gently he lay her down, lifting her legs as he trailed a taut torso over her breasts and then plunged himself inside her. I lay next to them, watching, spying, observing their bodies intertwined.

I bit my lip and my fingers tensed on my abdomen to see their embrace. The subtle shifts of their muscles as they strained against one another led a near painful warmth through my middle.

His hands on the back of her knees he pressed them back and he fucked her harder, looking deeply at me as my own knees spread to accommodate my venturing fingers. I watched, transfixed as his abdomen tensed with his thrusts. Suddenly there was another hand on my cunt and she murmerred my name as her fingers skillfully found their way between my lips.

A light touch, lighter than I might have touched myself, over each part of my pussy, pressure applied in just the right way and my eyes squeezed shut, my hands stretching over my head in a simulation of being bound. When my eyes opened again it was just in time to see his forarm moving across the back of her knee.

A cry came from my mouth as my eyes shut again. As his dick plunged in and out of her, he thrust two, then three fingers up my own writhing cunt, matching the rythm and pressure inside her. He arched his back and strained deeply into her, shouting as he emptied himself. His body twitched and pulsed with his orgasm and the hand in my cunt translated each wave of his pleasure.

I watched his body tremble and shake and my pussy throbbed for more. Grinding my hips against the hands that eagerly grasped, juices flowed and my orgasm came, through my pussy and through my mouth, wracking my body with each pulse. Spasms of pleasure brought with them smaller orgasms and I came again and again, coaxed and urged by tireless hands, both rough and masculine and tender and smooth.

He collapsed now atop us as our frantic breaths slowed and deepened and a layer of sweat separated our skin. As he eased his exhausted cock out of her, our hands delicately explored one another, taking the time to know the folds and crevices our lust had not yet had the patience to map.

I awoke once in the night, to find his head on my stomach, his arm across the soft curve of her hip and smiled at his peaceful face before drifting back into deep and contented slumber.



{May 14, 2007}   Introductions

I refer to myself in the first person, but I do not provide any but the most intimate of details about my life. In return, I know little about you, my readers. Yesterday, I posted my eighth post on this blog. Readership is climbing and I thank you all for reading and I hope you are enjoying my stories.

A little about me: I’m older than most people think, to look at me. I was married once, when I was very young but that’s been over for a while now. I am bisexual with a preference for men. I love women’s bodies and I love the intimacy with which a woman can touch me and I can touch her, but as I once exclaimed to a friend: “I just love cock!”

My experiences have ranged from very vanilla to quite kinky and I’ve seen lovers pale when I’ve described some of the more filthy things I’ve experimented with. I’m also a sucker for love and tenderness, the way I can touch and be touched when there’s more there than just carnality. Not to bash carnality, of course. There’s a lot to be said for a good hard (safe) fuck in its proper place and time.

I am safe and sane and you can assume that if I’ve neglected to mention the prophylactics or the discussions of safety and health, it’s for the flow of the story and not because there weren’t any. Please be safe in your sex too. Sex is too wonderful to allow for the more punitive consequences of not going into it with open eyes.

I write erotica because I enjoy it. I love the use of language to spin tales that will take your breath away and bring a flush to your cheeks. I write erotica because I enjoy sex and because I enjoy remembering those moments with others, where my skin tingled and my mind reeled. I write erotica because I’m a bit of an exhibitionist and a voyeur. I write erotica because I like to think of my readers and what acts I might be able to inspire. I write erotica because it gets me off.

I write other things too, of course because as sexcentric as I tend to be, if I spend my life in a constant state of arousal, I lose my keys and forget to eat.

My introduction to human sexuality came when I was ten. I was an exceptionally mature and responsible child and a precocious reader. The two aspects put together were what led to my raiding of my mother’s bookshelf while being left alone at home after school.

By twelve years old I had read 3 of the Hite Reports on human sexuality, one abridged Kinsey report, The Joy of Sex, Extended Sexual Orgasm and a host of lightly erotic novels which would now be classified as “Chick Lit”. I’d also read darker portrayals of sexuality, such as those in The Catcher in the Rye and Death of a Salesman.

My fascination with human sexuality was only heightened by the onset of puberty and I wrote my first piece of purely erotic literature at 15. In it, thinly disguised versions of my male friends and I interspersed our typical adolescent behaviours with a variety of sexual games. Monogamy was not a feature in this fantasy, as it rarely has been in my life.

All of the erotica I have posted thus far is based on real experiences unless otherwise noted. Most of the partners who have been immortalized here have read the work. If they’ve recognized themselves, they haven’t mentioned it to me.

I’d like to encourage comments and discussion of my posts, but I also enjoy where your silence takes my imagination.

I hope you have enjoyed reading so far, and I hope you enjoy reading further half as much as I do enjoy writing here. Feel free to introduce yourselves, or your avatars and happy reading!



{May 8, 2007}   LJ Feed

Wow, the LJ feed looks ugly…

But still, if you would like to receive Visceral Lit on your LJ friends list, the feed is certainly working.

It’s at: http://visceral_lit.livejournal.com/
Hope you’re enjoying!



et cetera