Writing in the Real World

As most of you know, I write for a living.  I used to do only one type of writing - the most stressful, tedious, boring kind that you can imagine (also the most lucrative), but I've branched out in recent years and now I'll write just about anything I can get someone to pay me for.

What a sell out.  I know, right?

The only excuse I have is that I have to support my family. That's a pretty good excuse, now that I think about it.

But trust me.  If I could earn a living doing nothing but writing for you guys, I would do it. This is one of the few places where I can be myself, end a sentence with a preposition (without giving a shit), and use the Oxford comma (or not), as the mood strikes me. This is the place where I can be completely honest and know that it's ok. There is no other place like PWK in my life, and no other people I respect and enjoy as much as you.

Recently, I joined a few online writing groups to see if I can make a connection with other writers in the "real world." It has been an interesting experiment. I shared a few sexual-themed poems with my poetry group and waited for feedback.

Crickets.  That's all I heard. They were shocked.  When the comments finally started coming, they were about the sexual content, not the structure or craft of the poem.  I was a bit disappointed.  I ended up revising one of them myself and submitting it to an online literary journal for publication, fully expecting it would be rejected as smut, but no! It was selected for publication and my real name will appear in the byline.

Hubby isn't too happy.  "Do you have to say, 'As he entered me...'? Can't you make it less graphic?"

"Are you kidding?" I answered. "That's not graphic at all.  Graphic would be something like 'I gasped  and arched my back as I felt all 8 inches of his hard, hot, throbbing cock slide into my wet cunt.' But that's not very poetic, is it?"

"Oh," he said sheepishly. "I guess it's ok like it is."

Yeah, I thought so.

That is exactly what's so difficult about taking erotic writing into the mainstream. People still think of it as dirty.

I'm working on a smutty romance novel right now that has some beautiful lovemaking/sex scenes in it. In my mind, they are anything but dirty.  They are beautiful, lyrical, almost poetic in the blend of love and sex that they describe. Ok, poetic may be going a bit too far, but you know what I mean, right?  My non-PWK reviewers, though, see dirty smut.

One wrote, "For the oral sex scene, can't you say hardness instead of 'cock'?  'Cock' seems so crass."

"No," I answered. "A woman doesn't want  to put a man's hardness in her mouth.  She wants to put a hard cock in her mouth.  It's a subtle, but important, distinction."

And I didn't even have to put the word cock in quotation marks, like the rest of the sentence needs to be protected from its filthiness. If you can't handle the word cock, maybe you shouldn't be reviewing my writing.  I'm just sayin'. I happen to love cocks.  They are nothing to be ashamed of.

(See? I ended another sentence with a proposition.  Ooooo, I feel so naughty!)

In fact, I think I'll write a poem using as many words for cock as I can. I think the bucket needs more stirring.

C-O-C-K

I was writing yesterday's post (The Surprises in Room 139 - Part 3 of 3) when I noticed that my son was reading over my shoulder.

Ack!

I quickly minimized the screen and turned to look at him.

"What's up?" I asked.

He looked down for a minute and then looked at me and pointed at my screen. "I saw the word C-O-C-K. What are you writing?"

On the inside, I was screaming, "fuck, fuck, fuck...." but before I could come up with a reasonable response, he said, "Have you been writing fan fiction?  I heard that lots of moms are doing that these days."

I started laughing. "No, TommyKat. I'm not writing fan fiction. That would be silly, wouldn't it?"

"I didn't think you would do that," he said, giggling.

"I was just writing a barnyard fable. I think you saw the part where I was writing about the rooster." Then I tickled him and said, "Cock-a-doodle-do!"

He laughed. "Oh, I get it.  Can I read it when you're done?"

"Of course you can! Now let me get back to work, ok?  We'll play later."

And he happily skipped away to play a video game.

I took a deep breath.

Barnyard fable?  How did I come up with that? It was the only thing I could think of that would include a respectable use of the word c-o-c-k. Fortunately, all he knows about my work is that I do all kinds of writing for all kinds of people.

Relieved that I'd dodged a bullet, I finished writing the post.  Then I opened a new blank document and started writing "Trouble on the Farm: A Barnyard Fable." The protagonist is a very proud and handsome cock who picks on the hens.  If he's not careful, the farmer's wife may eat him.

Cock Flavored Soup

I have a feeling I know what this would taste like.

Cock Pics

I've seen quite a few cock pics in my life.  Heck, I've seen a few hundred just in the past few years.  That's quite a claim to fame isn't it?  For some reason, men just like to send me pictures of their cocks.

For a while, I was collecting them for the "Cock Gallery" I was going to post here.  I just never got around to doing it.  Maybe I will soon.

Anyway, I was thinking about how all of Anthony Weiner's problems (at least his public ones) started when he tweeted a cock pic to someone. Just a picture of his genitalia. He snapped a photo. Uploaded it.  Clicked "send."

And his life was changed forever.

You wouldn't think a cock pic would cause such a big hullabaloo.

Don't get me wrong.  If you're one of the studs who sent me a cock pic, yours is the best, biggest, hottest, most exciting ever, but most cock pics are just.....

......not very impressive.

I've never picked a sex partner because of the size of his cock or because I really liked his cock pic.  I won't lie.  I've been pleasantly surprised by a larger cock than I had expected or one that was so beautiful I wanted to just look at it for a while. Obviously, I don't find cocks unappealing, but a cock is not the best feature of a man, at least not a man with whom I would want to spend any time.

But now I feel cheated because I never got to see Anthony Weiner's wiener. Is it particularly large?  Is it special in some way? Or is just an average, ordinary penis?

**********

O.K., I couldn't handle it.  I had to Google "Anthony Weiner's wiener" and I saw it. It's not bad, actually.  Thicker than average. Nicely shaped. But it's still just a cock. His chest shots are kind of nice, but I am a chest-shoulders-arms kind of gal.

The sad part is that his cock pics are interspersed between photos of him and his wife - walking down the street, at their wedding. *sigh*

But that brings us full circle around to one of the main themes of PWK - Is monogamy possible for most men, particularly given the biological imperative for men to seek out multiple partners? Does "looking" for or even "finding" others outside your marriage mean that you love your spouse any less?

You know my answer. What's yours?

That Dangling Thing

One of my favorite things to do is spend a little bit of time every at at Wallpapers by WWC (II). It's a virtual cornucopia of handsome, muscular young men.  What's not to like?

Someone told me once that it was a site for gay men, as if that would make me like it less. I'm not planning to fuck them or marry them.  I just want to objectify them and gaze at them in all their sexiness.

Every now and then, though, something gets in the way of my enjoyment.  It's that little dangling thing. You know what I mean. It's the penis.

Everyone knows that I am an adoring fan of the penis and all parts of a man's body (Extra credit for anyone who remembers my favorite part of a man's body), but let's face it.  The un-erect penis is an ugly little dangly thing. It's all wrinkled up and men are insecure about it ("It's cold in here."). And they use it for.....(whispering) peeing. At least a woman's pussy is somewhat pretty. Pink, sort of like a flower.

This is a very handsome young man, in spite of the rather gay, I mean, strange, pose. And I thought sitting on a mirror went out in the 70's. It would have been nice, but the dangling dick ruins it.

Look how much better this one is. Mmmmmm. Very hot.  He keeps it covered up.  It makes me want to see.

Same with this one. Wow. Is it getting warm in here or is it just me?

And because I'm such a big baseball fan, you knew this one would be my favorite. I'll have a nice long  shower tonight thinking of how I'll remove that gear.

If you must include a penis in the shot, make it an erect one, like this one that reminds me of JJ.

Now, Gentleman, does my enjoyment of these young studs mean I don't prefer more mature men?  Absolutely not. These young ones are for looking.  You gorgeous and sexually skilled older men are for touching....and licking....and sucking.....and......

From time to time, someone sends me a cock picture.  I'm grateful that they think of me, but the cock by itself  - flaccid or erect - means nothing. It's the man attached to it that turns me on - the whole man, body, mind, and spirit.

If you want to impress me, show me that.

Looks Familiar....

I just had to share this because that gorgeous cock reminds me of JJ, and it's making me want some!

Thanks to Shades of Erotic Poetry for the photo.

The Wedding Guest

I saw him for the first time at the wedding reception. It was my cousin's wedding. G was watching the belly dancer who was providing entertainment.  No, it is not my family's custom to  have a belly dancer at our weddings, and I can assure you that my grandmother was mortified.  I was intrigued by it all. After her "performance," various men jumped up to dance with her and tuck money in her panties.

G took a big gulp of champagne directly out of the bottle and stepped up to dance. He was very tall (6'6") and lanky and, to be honest, he was not a good dancer, but no one cared. As another man stepped up to dance, G tucked a $20 bill in her panties and stepped back. His friends were laughing and patting him on the back, as if his ugly dance and monetary contribution was some sort of rite of manhood. I just didn't get it. But I kept looking at him.

As I said, he was tall.  He had blonde hair and blue eyes and a very long face with a squared jaw that made his face look kind of like a rectangle. I wouldn't say he handsome, but he wasn't unattractive, either.

He noticed me staring at him and he walked over. I was terrified.  He was 22.  I was 16. Being noticed by a real man was exciting! He introduced himself but I already knew who he was and he already knew who I was. We found a couple of empty chairs and sat down to chat.  We made small talk while my mother watched me closely from across the room. I was annoyed that she was watching me like a hawk, as if she was doing her motherly duty.  In an hour she'd be drunk off her ass and completely unconcerned about me and my brothers. I was sure the motherly act she was putting on now was just for the benefit of my grandmother.

G could tell I was uncomfortable, so he asked if I wanted to go for a walk. Hell yes I wanted to get out of there. He took my hand and we went outside.

The reception was held in a hall in a rural area by the coast. It was cool outside, almost cold. G took off his coat and put it around my shoulders. I was so impressed and I felt so grownup.We walked a while until we came to a little shed with a grassy area behind it, hidden from the reception hall and the road. That's when he kissed me. He was so tall and I was so short that he bent way down and I still had to stand up on my tippy toes to kiss him. I still remember that kiss 32 years later. It was magical.

The next thing I knew  he was kneeling and tugging on me, trying to get me to lay down in the grass. He never stopped kissing me. I just let him lead me. I felt him sliding his hands up my dress and under my bra. I remember I had to remind myself to breathe because I realized I was holding my breath. Then he slid his hand down under my panty hose (yes, those were the days when you wore hose with a dress always) and gently pushed a finger inside me. I gasped and looked at him. He stopped for a moment and asked if I was o.k., if I wanted him to stop All I said was, "Don't stop." He smiled and kissed me again.

When he started fingering my clit, I finally realized where this was going to go. I looked around nervously.  I was definitely not a virgin, but I had never had sex out in the open like this, in broad daylight. What would happen in someone else come out for a walk? While I was running through the scenarios of what I would do if we got caught, G was removing my shoes and hose and pulling my dress up above my waist.

I watched him as he stared at my pussy while he unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. His cock literally bounced out as he pulled his pants down to his knees. I laughed. I hadn't yet learned never to laugh at a man's cock for any reason. He looked at me strangely for a moment. I think he was trying to decide if he was offended or not, but he didn't think long because he drove his cock into me quickly.

I gasped and grabbed onto him, my arms wrapped around his chest. He fucked me slowly - long, deep strokes. His was the biggest cock I had experienced up that point and I was unprepared for how different it would feel. Each thrust shook me and I just held on. At that age, I was completely unaware of how to actively participate, but I assumed I was doing just fine because every now and then he would groan something like, "Damn, you are so tight," and "Yeah, Baby, juts like that," which I thought was strange because I didn't think I was doing anything. I now know that if you're a cute young gal, you really don't have to do anything. Just being cute, young and tight is usually enough.

Pretty soon, it was over. I didn't cum, but I didn't expect to. I was way too nervous. He seemed disappointed, though. As I pulled my hose back on, he asked if he could see me later. My family would be in town for a few days.  We were staying in a hotel with two adjoining rooms and it turned out that for one night -that night- I'd have one of those rooms all to .myself, so I told him the hotel and room number and we arranged for him come by at midnight.  Everyone else should be asleep by then.

He kissed me again, then he took my hand and we walked back to the reception. My mom was standing in front of me asking me where we went within 15 seconds of us walking through the door. I told her we went for a walk. She didn't say a word as she picked some grass out of my hair. G dropped my hand and walked away quickly.

I don't remember much about the rest of the reception. G left early without saying anything to me. But I couldn't get him off my mind. I hoped he would show up at the hotel that night.  I didn't know why I was so nervous earlier, except for the fact that we were outside, but I fully expected to enjoy myself a bit more if I could get him in a nice comfortable bed. I imagined how I'd ride him then and what it would feel like to cum with that great big cock inside me.

The hours didn't tick by fast enough, but soon it was almost midnight.  I was wearing my white cotton nightgown with little pink ribbons. I was a bit embarrassed about that, but I didn't have much else to wear excepts jeans and dresses.

Then, a few minutes after midnight, there was a gentle knock on the door......

Show Me the Cock

Every now and then I check out the funny autocorrect conversations on Damn You Autocorrect. Today, this one had me laughing particularly hard.

8 Things that Surprised Me This Week

This week has been full of surprises for me.  It has also been an emotional roller coaster. I hate the roller coaster, but I love the surprises.  Here are a few (in no particular order):

1. I was up and out of the house before dawn every day this past week, which means I got to see the sunrise every day.  That was both a surprise and a treat.
2. Riff posted again.  That's twice in the last two months! Woohoo! In all seriousness, it's nice to have something new from him to read on Ashley and Me.
3. Cara referred to children as "fuck trophies" in a comment on Left Turn at Albuquerque. I know, I'm still shocked.
4. I actually stood up to one of my most difficult clients and didn't lose the contract. That was, indeed, a surprise.
5. My therapist suggested a separation from my husband. Wow. That was unexpected.
6. I cried over something I thought I was over a long time ago. I'm not a crier.  I hate it when that happens.
7. Single guy contacted me....not once, but twice! If you read Play Time on the Road with Single Guy, you know that is not his typical practice, but I liked it. :-)
8. JJ gave me permission to post a photo of his manhood (See, Daunt?  I don't always have to say cock.).  Well, it's not just a photo of his manhood.  My hand is in the photo, too, stroking him. So now when you read one of those posts where I wrote about his gorgeous, thick ....you know.....you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. You'll see the photo soon.

I can't wait to see what surprises the new week brings!

******************

If you're in the mood for some naughty, try these posts:

TSA Foreplay at the Airport

Starbucks with Cream

Raunchy Hotel Sex

Teaching a Young One

And if those aren't enough for you, go to our Sex, Sex, Only Sex page for a page full of links to naughty sex posts.

Need some visuals? Visit the HNT Photos page.

Word Aesthetics, DauntlessD's Perspective

Recently Kat wrote a post about words and how the meaning of them can be completely flipped depending on the context of who's using them and how they're being said. It was a very fun post, but somehow by the end of it both my blogging partners were ganging up on me. This post, while primarily to be fun, is also a bit about defending Daunt's honor. Tsk tsk tsk, those naughty girls... I should give them a "manhood" lashing.

Before I continue let me state that I've had no formal training on writing and I am not a literature buff. I'm just a guy who enjoys reading and with a little encouragement from friends discovered he could write.

There are two things in play when I choose my words and one of these things is my upbringing. I was raised in a pretty old-school manner and was taught to treat women with enormous respect. Along with never raising my hand to them in anger, I was taught to be a gentleman and never be crass around them -- in essence, not to be a knuckle-dragging ape. This shows in the erotica I write because in general I expect the majority of my audience to be women.

Now the second thing that causes me to decide which words to use is purely my opinion. Things like the mood I'm trying to convey come into play. Lets play a little game. On the next line there will be a single word. Ready?

Sunshine.

Now stop. Don't think about the image that popped in your mind, think about the feeling you felt. For me it's a general happiness, so I expect you to feel that too. In my opinion there is something about the sound of the word that comes into play also, and I'm going to show that on the next line. Ready?

Petcock.

For whatever reason this word gives me a general ugly feeling. Maybe it's the jolting abrupt syllables, I'm not sure, but it sounds ugly to me.

When it comes to genitalia, I have a hunch most men feel like I do. Women are all smooth and curvy and their nether regions have everything neatly tucked away. Now men... well... their genitalia is... well... icky. I mean seriously, there is this limp thing with a rumpled sack that occasionally stiffens and looks at you. When you look at a prime example of male physique his junk almost looks like the dimple left behind on a casting of plastic.

So, lets think about the words we use for genitalia.

Cunt.

It sounds ugly to me. Most women I've know feel an aversion to this word. I know some women like it but my old-school upbringing makes me shy away from it.

Dick.

That word almost makes me laugh, I may as well use "weenie".

Cock.

While not as ugly sounding as "petcock", it's kind of abrupt and not very pretty; not to mention its strange association with a rooster. Now add to this to the fact that that poor dangling thing is already lumpy and funny looking... Do I really want to use this word?

I am working on my writing in this respect. I am trying to take more chances that feel more crass, but mix all this up with the fact that my writing tends toward the romantic and you get, "she felt the heat of his breath on her sex" and "her eyes bore into his while he gently stroked his manhood."

Damn it! I just admitted to Cara I write Harlequin Romance... *sigh*

Words Matter...and It's All About Context

I've been thinking about the Counselor's use of the term "enjoy" in reference to my feelings about sex with JJ (If you don't know what I'm talking about, catch up by reading Kat's First Counseling Session), and it made me start thinking about the use of words in general.

Context is everything, isn't it?

For example, let's take the word "whore." Merriam-Webster defines a whore as a woman who performs sexual acts for money; a prostitute; also a promiscuous or immoral woman. Whether it's an insult or a compliment, however, depends entirely on the context. A wife who uses the word to describe her husband's mistress is clearly not using it as a compliment.  Cara uses the term with me when she's annoyed with me ("Shut up, you whore.") or when she's annoyed with someone else ("She was rude to me, that whore."). When she uses it with me, it doesn't feel like an insult or a compliment, but more like a term of endearment.  Huh?  I know.  It's strange.

Now when JJ whispers it to me ("Come on, whore, tell me how much you want it..." or "That's a good whore..."), it's definitely both a term of endearment and a compliment. But if he were to substitute its synonym "prostitute" for it, it would not work at all.  In fact, that would be big turn off for me.

What about the word "slut?" It's a lot like "whore," in the sense that it's both naughty and nice. Younger women use it as an insult for other young women, but it loses its power as an insult as a woman ages.  I haven't been insulted by the term for at least 25 years. Heck, I've known women in their 50's who consider it a badge of honor.  What a compliment to still be thought of as a slut at that age! No?  I guess it matters who's saying it, huh?

When JJ sends me a text that says, "I need my slut! Can you get away tomorrow afternoon?" I just melt inside. Yes, I melt.

What about other naughty words like cunt, cock, fuck, and so on? While they sound crude in polite conversation, they are the only words that work in certain contexts. I can't imagine purring "Oh yes, please have intercourse with me and put your your nice big penis in my vagina" (although I have met foreign men online who use language like that and it just makes me laugh). No, I would say," Oh yes, fuck me with your nice thick cock" (or something like that). I don't have intercourse.  I fuck.  On occasion, I make love.

This brings me to all of the possible words to describe "down there" in writing.  DauntlessD and I have discussed this more than once and it usually ends up as a rather funny conversation.  If you've read any of my naughty stories, you know I like the word cock to describe a man's penis.  Not Dauntless.  He insists that it sounds crude, so he prefers "manhood" and "member." Dang, I'm already giggling. Those terms just sound funny to me, but when he uses them in his writing, they seem to fit perfectly (pun intended).

(As I was writing this, I got an email from a blogger friend who referred to his cock as "my hard warrior." What is it when it's not hard? A peasant? An unarmed warrior? A farmer?)

And Ladies, no matter what term you use for it, never ever ever use the adjectives "cute," "little," or "darling," when referring to a man's cock.  Trust me on this.  I learned the hard way.  I should really say that I learned this lesson the "it's not hard anymore" way.

Finding the right word for a woman's private area is also difficult. There are not many choices.  Pussy (ok, but overused). Cunt (ok, a bit on the crude and rough side, but perfect sometimes). Vagina (too clinical). Labia (painfully clinical). After that, it's all about euphemisms - womanhood, flower.

Of course, the context matters.  I would never refer to it as my "pussy" or my "cunt" with my doctor. Nor would I refer to it as my "womanhood."

Sigh.

You would think that when it comes to sex, the words would matter less than the....uh.....sensations, but the words still matter.

***********

A word of advice to new prowlers - Be very careful about using these naughty words with a woman until you know exactly what turns her on. Some women still get offended by being called a slut, even in bed.

Late Night Desire - A Naughty Note from JJ

 I woke up yesterday morning and found a sexy and enticing email waiting for me from JJ. That's JJ from Whatever He Wants (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4). I thought you would enjoy it, too, fellow Prowlers, so I asked JJ for his permission to share it.  Yes, I am indeed a very luck Kat. ;-)

--------------------------------------------

It's late and I'm laying in bed wishing you were next to me, naked, pressed against me.  Waiting, until you feel my swelling press even harder against your ass that tells you that I want you... Again!

You turn around, smile, and kiss me softly, both of us thinking the same thing in perfect unison.  Your hand reaching for my cock and mine for your pussy.

My fingers flit over the outside of your pussy, feeling for the slightest bit of moisture to lubricate them.  Once they do, the first finger begins searching out your clit.  As it finds it, the second wets itself and joins the first and the two begin to tease and taunt your body, bringing you ever so close to climax and then retreating at the very last moment.

I want more... you want more...

You whisper in my ear you want me to fuck you hard.  I move my self in between your legs and run my cock up and down your slippery slit and then watch as your pussy slowly swallows my cock.  First, the head and then, eagerly, you hungrily take in the rest of me.  There is nothing more exciting to me than the sight of my cock disappearing into you.

Xoxo,


JJ