Thursday, April 12, 2018

Boxer Briefs & Boots

Hello, everyone. The last few years have been difficult. With the death of my husband came many responsibilities. Some I was ready for. Many, and let me say there were some unexpected surprises I could have done without, I was totally unprepared for.

Just before his death, I released BB&B. I paid for edits and uploaded the books to Amazon and Smashwords. Somehow, those edited versions were not what was released. It is my fault. I somehow lost those files. I know I was dealing with computer problems at the time.

So, now I am happy to say I've edited Boxer Briefs & Boots and will rerelease it in May.

Chapter 1 Excerpt.


“Annoying diva,” Jacy muttered. No, that was not right. Diva was a frustrating female singer. Hmm, prima dona? No, ballerina. What was a has-been male model called? Hmm, several unmentionable names her nana used before her catch-phrase ‘bless his heart’ came to mind but wasn’t strong enough for the buffoon before her.
She just wanted him to stop. The guy was unbelievable and up to his antics—again. She shook her head as the model turned, swinging his narrow hips back and forth in an exaggerated wiggle; a blatant come-on. Another involuntary shudder wracked her shoulders as he sashayed toward the far side of the room as if to say, ‘follow me’.
“It’ll be easy. A few hours, tops. Not like taking pictures of screaming babies,” Jacy mimicked her friend’s, Tamara, words, as she snatched up the leather camera case off the floor. Crying babies had spit up on her, pulled her hair, and screamed bloody murder.
But no one had ever treated her this bad. Not the testosterone laden high school football team taking group and individual pictures. Nor Clarksville’s local male strippers, all sweaty, half-naked, and during a show. And no one ever suggested she might be more comfortable taking pictures in the nude.
If he didn’t stop—she wasn’t sure what she’d do. No act or lewd remark was taboo.
Hmm, maybe shed could doctor the photos. Give him wrinkles, make his skin pumpkin orange, which wasn’t too much of a stretch from the color now; Photoshop in a tattoo. A grandmother straddling a Harley with the caption: “Her Bitch,” or maybe a third nipple.
Nah, she considered then discarded every devious idea. Revenge would be so sweet, though. Her shoulders slumped with the next thought, but short-lived. Not to mention ruin her future plans. Which were more important than one loser. A movement caught her eye. She made the mistake of looking. Ah, the toad—manager. Kissing ass was an understatement. Now, after ten hours, Jacy was hot, tired, hungry, and more than fed-up with the men’s repeated attempts to get her into the oversized bed.
Well, it was time to get used to their type. Their only saving grace was they weren’t as bad as beauty pageant mothers. She squelched a shudder and turned back to packing up her equipment. With practiced ease, she removed the zoom lens from the camera and nestled it into its foam slot. Carefully, she laid the camera into its slot. She peered into the bag, double checking she hadn’t forgotten anything. Satisfied, she zipped the bag and set it on the floor.
A light touch on her arm made her jerk her head up in time to see the model shimmying past. “What the…” Jacy choked on the question. She blinked. She reasoned her tired eyes played tricks on her, had to be. She shut them, squinched them tight for a second, then ever so slowly opened them.
Tighty-whitey boxer briefs dipped or hitched. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Good grief, was he—? Oh, please let that be all there was to his—dancing?
The ham sandwich she ate six hour ago churned in her stomach as she watched in morbid fascination. He reached out and clutched the thin, tall bedpost as he proceeded to wiggle and twirl and buck his hips to an off-kilter rhythm playing in his distorted mind. Wrenching her frozen gaze from the awful scene in front of her, she picked up the pace. Time to get out of here, girl.
Behind her the mattress springs creaked, then a loud thud sounded as something hit the floor. Immediately another followed. Black leather boots, she surmised; props for the shoot. She ignored him, silently counting as she pointed to one, two, and the third case all packed up. Satisfied, she turned to dismantle the lights.
Naked model, the words flashed in her overtaxed brain. She blinked, again, and then once more. “No way.” He turned. Shock rooted her to the spot and rendered her speechless. Yep—the full Monty— Jacy jerked her gaze upward.
He waggled his eyebrows and before she could ignore the offensive come-on he flashed her a smile. Brilliant, even white teeth blinded her. Had to be capped. With another waggle of his brows and his hips, Jacy snapped out of the nightmare she was trapped in. The man refused to take no for an answer.

Monday, June 19, 2017

Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Labor Leather
Time Period: 1500 - 1600

Leather needs to be conditioned to keep soft and pliable aka lots and lots of practice in bed.

Monday, June 12, 2017

Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Dance the Paphian Jig.
Time Period: 1650s.

This reference is in connection with the city of Paphos or Cyprus, which was the sacred cult of Aphrodite, the goddess of sex and love.

Monday, June 5, 2017

Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Ride below the Crupper.
Time Period:  1570s

A crupper is a piece of equipment that keeps the tail up.
Thinking this reference is about anal sex or sex from behind.

Monday, May 29, 2017

Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Shoot Twixt Wind and Water.
Time Period: Late 1600s.
Anatomically correct and somewhat poetic.



Monday, May 22, 2017

Monday, May 15, 2017

Monday Historical Euphemism for Sex

1790 in Origin

"Engage in Three to One (And Bound to Lose)"

Nope, it's not a reference to a menage. (Too bad). This is a gambling metaphor and usually said by men.

I wouldn't have guessed this in a million years. Maybe you got it right away.

I'll just paste the link to the definition below and forego pictures.

Engage in three to one

Monday, May 8, 2017

Monday Historical Euphemism for Sex

Origin 1300's
Related image

"Give Someone A Green Gown"

I'm sure if you think about it long enough you'll get the reference for having sex in the grass.


Thursday, May 4, 2017

Stolen Hearts

This is a text scene I'm working on for the Stolen Hearts Series I'm working on. Very raw (pun intended).

Hi.
Hi. Tell me u need some dark dominance.
Since you ordered me to wear the heels for you, I imagined it was your hands that pulled the leather tight around my ankles, your fingers grasping the clasp, buckling me into them; you’ve been on my mind constantly.
I’m wet wanting to feel you inside me.
Hmm… Constantly wet?
Yes. You creep into my head during the day. At night I lie alone in bed wanting you here. I ache to feel the forceful grip of your hand around my neck, pulling me up on my knees, my back to your muscled chest as you take me from behind.
Have u been masturbating?
I followed your instructions and have not.
Do u like being obeying?
I like being dominated. But I’m a brat.
Brats have been known to be beaten, occasionally.
With your hand, I hope.
……..
You could buy a toy or two to use for me?
What toys did you have in mind?
A nice butt plug and some slippery ben-wa balls.
Oh, you know what buttons to push. I hate butt plugs. I’ll find them online and email links to you for your approval.
………
Email me the links.
Oh, I got busy cooking supper and forgot to text that I sent them.
U can call me Sir.
Yes, Sir.
Your clit is throbbing, isn’t it?
Yes, Sir.

Monday, May 1, 2017

Today's Historical Euphemism for Sex

1500-1600 "Beast with Two Backs" is a euphemism for sexual intercourse, either missionary style or standing. It is believed to be as old if not older in English from William Shakespeare's Othello.

Image result for make the beast with two backs othelloI am one sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the moor are now making the beast with two backs.  (Othello, Act 1 Scene 1).


The origin of the euphemism is believed to be from 1532, appearing in Rabelais' Gargantua and Pantagruel originally in French.
Whereas the above example is believed to be written by Shakespeare himself in 1603.

I like the original version below best for its wit.

In the vigour of his age he married Gargamelle, daughter of the king of Parpaillons, a jolly pug, and well-mouthed wench. These two did oftentimes do the two-backed beast together, joyfully rubbing and frotting their bacon 'gainst one another.

Paraphrased from Wikipedia.

Boxer Briefs & Boots Rerelease