Topless Tuesday

It's Tuesday, my beloved ones. And you know what that means -- it's Topless Tuesday and I think I have just the photo for you to see. After all, a more stunning pair I have not seen in a long while. For you lads...

So tell me, gentlemen, whipped cream and cherries be enough to enjoy that fine pair?

With love,

Siobhan

I'm Waiting...I'm Coming

 
I'm waiting, he says to me. I'm waiting for you. I wait with a fire so hot that my blood is burning inside of me. I wait with a thirst so strong that no amount of water or wine can ever quench it. I wait with a hunger that can never be satiated as I picture you lying with me and know that I can never have enough of you. I'm waiting to touch you, kiss you, come into you. I am waiting. Come to me, come to me now.



I am coming, I answer back. I feel your need and hold the anticipation of your scent, your taste, and your need. I am coming to you with the desperation of one who craves you the way the flower must have the sunlight to survive. I am coming to you with the need of you so strong that your absence leaves me could and empty inside. I am coming because to be without you means to give up that part of myself that cannot exist without you. I am coming. I am coming now.

How would you answer?

With love,

Siobhan

 

Luke and his "light sabre"

The model's name is Roy Blakey, the picture was taken sometimes in the 1970s. I just loved it because it looks like a younger Mark Hamill, before the car accident that changed his face. I've always thought he was truly a beautiful man in his youth -- not that he didn't become handsome after the accident, because he did. But the sensitivity of his face was marked in his glorious smile and eyes. In those days, I'd have wanted a taste of that light sabre, for sure.

Tell me you wouldn't want to see that sabre in action...I dare ya.

With love,

Siobhan

Writing sexy ... sexy writing!

I've been writing some lovely sex scenes between my characters -- and loving every second of it. You know, I never thought I could be good at writing about love making. I always considered my other writing to be my "serious" work -- historical fiction, fantasy, thrillers. I've never published any of it, but I considered it to be my "serious" writing.

Then, I realized that I'd been writing sex into each of them. The melding of two people in the act of making love draws them together like nothing else can. The feelings they experience, the touch of one another, them joining of their bodies into one flesh -- and I discovered that I'm really good at it. Writing about the sex, I mean. I take my wants, my desires, my experiences and share them through my writing.

Do you enjoy reading it as well?

With love,

Siobhan

 

Naughty, Naughty

I remember hearing this song once -- Naughty, Naughty by a singer named John Parr (same guy who did the theme song for the movie St. Elmo's Fire). Great song, encouraging his lady to get very naughty, "loud and bawdy." Oh yeah, I could definitely be a "girl like that." Couldn't you?

The idea of making love with the Beautiful Boy is enough these days to make want to get very naughty with him. I have a lovely assortment of lacy bras, panties, camisoles. I wear them constantly because he loves to be creative in many places. For us, making love is never restricted to the bedroom -- or our home, for that matter.

My Beautiful Boy also dresses to suit my mood -- he favors a thong or g-string under his trousers or jeans. Easy to peel off his gorgeous hips. This isn't him, by the way. But he does wear his hair that long -- it's auburn with blond streaks in it. And when he wears it down, he knows I cannot resist him.

We take opportunities to make love in wonderful places. In the woods, in the car, in hotels and motels, in the occasional restaurant restroom. Yes, we have, I swear it.

I love being naughty for him...and with him. I hope that will always be for both of us.

And you? Where is the most naughty place that you have made love?


With love,
Siobhan
 

The plot (and Dave's cock) thickens

I love it when things gel, when I can sit down and put my fingers to the keyboard and just let go. It's my perfect zen moment, really. I don't completely understand it but do I really have to? I sit down, open the document, and just go. I never have to re-read anything because I seem to always know where I was when I stopped the night before. The world around me disappears and I am lost in time.

Stephen King once called it "the hole in the paper." That special place where the writer goes, inside of the story, as if s/he is walking around as the observer of this manipulated life and event. With the advent of the computer and word processing, it's now "the hole in the monitor" but the sentiments are still the same. I am diving back into the world of Rick and Dave.

I thought maybe you'd like another small excerpt, fresh from the fingers. Still in its raw state, but an important moment in the story. Enjoy --

  "Mine…mine. All mine. All mine. Never but mine. Mine."
  He rolled over onto his back, still muttering, and closed his eyes. I wanted to lay in his arms, hold him close, but something in his muttering told me that was the wrong thing to do right then. My body felt sticky and I needed to use the toilet, to release the spunk he'd left inside of me. I got out of bed quietly, leaving him to come back to himself.
  I stepped into the large tub, pulling the shower curtain around, and turned on the jets overhead. It wasn't the rain shower I had in my bathroom, but it was nice. The water poured over my skin, washing off the sticky emission of my climax. My arse was a bit sore from the vehemence of his lovemaking and itched a little. 'Mine,' he'd kept muttering. Did my night with Niko really bother him that much? I’d gotten the impression that Rick was a playboy at heart – many lovers, never one exclusive. He never kept a woman for long, never gave all of himself to anyone. I never saw him with other men, never got the impression that he was interested in having other male lovers. Or maybe he was just that discreet and I never would.
  I stepped out of the shower and toweled off. I hadn’t thought to bring anything to wear and decided it wasn’t worth it anyway. I wet two washcloths and brought them back into the bedroom. Whatever was going on in his head, Rick needed something. I meant to find out what was wrong. But first, I meant to heal it.
  He hadn't moved an inch other than to spread his arms out to his sides. The residue of our lovemaking glistened on his skin but he made no attempt to do anything about it. He was staring at the ceiling, unblinking, his mouth set in a firm line. His chest rose and fell, long deep breaths that he held for a long time before releasing them. He looked lost, a condition that I had never seen Rick in and never expected to see. That was not the Rick I knew; this was not my friend. I felt a little lost myself.
  I sat down on the bed and began to gently sponge his skin. He didn’t move a muscle as I cleaned the mess from his groin, laying his pink, perfect cock against the curve of his hip. I used the other washcloth to clean his belly and chest. He didn’t exactly hinder me from what I was doing but he didn’t help me either. He also kept silent, still staring at the ceiling. When he was clean again, I took the cloths to the laundry hamper and tossed them in. I poured us both another cup of coffee and another cognac and brought them into the bedroom.



With love,
Siobhan

Rainy Days and Mondays

There's just something about a Monday when it rains that brings on the melancholy. Sitting back with a cup of hot tea, watching the feline saunter across the floor, I prop my feet up and let my mind turn towards things far more prurient than the weather. I watch the Beautiful Boy saunter as well -- in his divine skin suit -- as he gets ready for his day job. Such a waste to put clothing on that gorgeous frame. So well built, the sight of him makes my heart ache sometimes -- and my fingers twitching to touch every inch of him. I suppose I shall have to content myself with writing that scene between Rick and Dave.

Not that I need it, really, but I think some inspiration would be nice....

 

Wonder if he needs a towel....

With love,

Siobhan

 

How many positions have YOU done?

Someone posted this on Facebook and it was too good to pass up. I simply had to share it with you all. I love this sort of thing, really. Yes, I'm sure there's a prurient value to it, but I don't see that. I see a sort of "oh my, is this even possible?" value to it. There are positions here that I've never even heard of. The Beautiful Boy looked over my shoulder at one point -- while I was contemplating, you understand -- and his eyes lit up with the delight of trying everything. We're only on #4, but I think we'll have it down by week's end.

Out of my own curiosity, how many of these have you tried? And which ones are you more likely to try? Tell me in the comments.

With love,

Siobhan

 

Nikolos, my Grecian God

Someone posted this picture on Facebook and I looked into the eyes and face of Nikolos Demopoulos. This is exactly how I pictured him when I wrote the story. So, to celebrate, how about I share that wee snippet from His Man Saturday.

  “Papa, I have – oh, excuse me.”

  The moment I turned my head to see who had joined us, I felt the breath leave my body in one great rush. I know I looked stupid as hell but the sight of the newcomer reduced me to a puddle in a moment. My mouth hung open; I couldn’t look away.

  A vision of Grecian beauty, he reminded me very much of Michelangelo’s David. If I had to guess at his age, I would have put him about around twenty-five or so. His black hair was curly, framing his head like a halo. His face was almost feminine in its beauty with eyes the color of warm chocolate, a strong aquiline nose, and lips that looked full and pouty. He had high cheekbones that added the air of strength to his face. When I allowed myself the ability to look lower, I saw that he was slim and well-toned. His shoulders weren’t huge but they were broad enough to make his waist look small. I wondered what his arse looked like, making a mental image of the perfectly rounded globes. When he turned to close the door, I saw that I was right.

  “My son, Niko -- Nikolos.”

  The son took my hand, shaking it with much less vigor than his father had displayed, but Nikolos shook it with no less warmth.

  “David…uh, Dave. Call me Dave.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, Dave.” His voice was less accented than his father’s, his English flawless. He spoke the next words to Stavros, but his eyes never left mine. “Papa, the mill is fixed; you can lead the tour there tomorrow. It was just a branch got caught in the grinder.”

  “Wonderful,” Stavros bellowed.

  “Grinder?” I asked.

  When Niko smiled, his face lit up with a glow. “Yes, the olives are ground so that we can extract the oil from them.”

  I smiled back. “I look forward to the tour then. I can’t wait to see how this is all done.”

  Stavros clapped his hand on my back and laughed. “Good, good. We will take you on tour tomorrow.”   With that, he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a bear hug that I thought would break my ribs. Then, he kissed both my cheeks and patted them with his huge hands. “Good, good. Come now, Niko, we must let them rest. He and beautiful woman will need rest before the feast.”

  Niko glanced at me with one eyebrow raised. I wasn’t sure what message he was sending but I had a good feeling I knew. How could I send the message back to him that his invitation was welcome? I licked my lower lip, trying to think, but that seemed to be the right one. He nodded, still smiling.

  “Yes, Papa, we will go.” He turned and left the villa without another word.

  “Rest well, Mr. Dave. I will send Niko to get you when it is time.”

  “Thank you, Stavros. I can’t wait.”

  It wasn’t until they left that I found the air to breathe again. What the fuck was I doing? I was standing here practically drooling over that beautiful man and my woman was laying down in the next room. Holy God, what the fuck was I doing? Was I totally insane? I tried to convince myself that it was no different than the pleasure palace in Taipei, that it was no different than any of the places Rick and I had gone to. Oh shit, Rick. What would he do? What would he tell me to do? God, this was stupid. This could blow up in my face. 

Get your copy of each -- His Man Friday and His Man Saturday -- through Amazon.

With love,

Siobhan

  

He spoils me so

My Beautiful Boy decided that I needed something. He spoils me so... So, today, he pre-ordered my present, something I love and have been wanting. Guess what I'm getting from Amazon next week. I'll even give you a hint --

Another Beautiful Man in three works by one of my favorite writers. I can't wait to immerse myself in watching them.

With love,

Siobhan 

Coming up for air!

The crisis is done at the day job. I can catch up on everything and just relax. In the meantime, still working on His Man Sunday and thought that maybe you'd like to see a raw excerpt. Just a short snippet.

* * * * * *

  Rick came along and in a very short time, changed all of that. He taught me how to be urbane, how to open up to the new possibilities of life. He taught me how to speak and act as a gentleman, how to dress like a gentleman. He stopped being my boss about twenty-four hours or so after I got hired. He became my mentor and my friend. Then, we took that fateful trip to Taipei and even that changed. We took that drive to the sex mall, took that steamy sauna alone, and took the step across a threshold that I had never planned to take in my life.

  I asked him about that once, kidding around really. You know, one of those questions that I just tossed out as a joke. “You sleep with all of your assistants? Hell of a job perk.”

  He looked at me, surprised at first, with his eyes real big and his mouth working, like he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how to say it. He chewed on it for a few seconds, the surprised look going away and another one taking its place. I wasn’t sure if I’d given him something to think about or if I’d just insulted him. Then the sweet smile lit up his face, the one that made every woman on the planet want to bone him until he was just a greasy spot on the pillow.

  “Dave,” he said. “I never wanted to sleep with my assistants. I paid them to do a job, not fuck the boss.”

  I wanted to ask ‘why me, then?’ but he had changed the subject and I never got the chance. When we’d finished the day’s work, he was off with Gisele and banging her in the pool. I had gone upstairs to do the same thing to Elyssa in the shower. We never touched each other, never looked at each other that way in the mansion. His rule, not mine. I just thought it had more to do with the women not knowing and I left it at that. For me, it was keeping a part of myself private and only mine. Either way, I didn’t quite understand what it was that made him approach me that day.

Available right now -- His Man Friday and His Man Saturday, from Amazon.com. 

 With love,

Siobhan

 

Back to Home

At some point, my life will be my own again. No, no problems with the Beautiful Boy -- he's keeping me from going insane, really. The day job is giving me duck fits. It comes with the territory. But I miss posting every day. Soon, I keep telling myself. Soon.

I'm working on His Man Sunday today. So, I'm off to write some steaming goodness. But in the meantime, here's a bit of steaming goodness for you, my dear one. Perfectly chiseled, at his most vulnerable -- what woman (or man so inclined) not want to enjoy the fruits of this labor?

 Pass the whipped cream!

With love,

Siobhan

 

Another Thor's Day

My poor Beautiful Boy is now sick with the flu and I've been nursing him back to health. I feel like such an evil person -- he has never looked more beautiful than in his poor state. The fevered glow of his skin and the vulnerable state appeal to that sexy beast inside of me. I not only want to heal his illness, I want to fuck it out of him. What is wrong with me?

I found another picture of the divine actor, Tom Hiddleston. It looks as if done very early on in his career. And since it's Thor's Day again -- what, you didn't know that Thursday was actually named for the Norse God, Thor? -- I thought it only right to post another Loki picture.

Tell me that man is not heartbreakingly beautiful! I dare you!

With love,

Siobhan

4 Stars for HMF and HMS!

Wow, I am so pleased. Solid four star ratings for both His Man Friday and His Man Saturday. Jane from the Erotica Book Club wrote:

His Man Friday:

I really surprised myself by how much I enjoyed it. I also thought it was well written and with really hot sex.

It was just a little short to get to know the characters at great depth but this is only part 1 in the series so as it goes on I will look forward to getting to know Dave a lot more.

It is also in a male POV which I found to be a refreshing change.

His Man Saturday:

This is also a short erotic story with really hot sex, also m/m. I found myself looking forward to reading about the sex scenes.

I feel that I am slowly getting to know the characters and will continue to look forward to reading more about them.

Another good read, the hot sex scenes are making me really enjoy reading it and that its still in Dave's POV.


I am very happy about these. Time for a new story...and a new picture to celebrate:

Another scene in the sauna, I think. Maybe? What do you think? What would you like to see?

With love,

Siobhan

Illness and Fatigue

So much for our idyllic weekend. The Beautiful Boy and I have both come down with colds -- complete with stuffed up noses, scratchy throats, and chests full of ground glass. At least no one had to be the sole caregiver. We've done a lot of sleeping and moaning together. Which is good...in a way. But I'm here to tell you, sick people can be a pain in the butt. He still loves me anyway.

So I 'm taking a precious few minutes here to come say hello to everyone. I'm still alive and I have a lovely man to show you today. Given my present state, I think I could curl up quite nicely with this one...

I bet he gives great snuggle.

With love,

Siobhan