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By some wild, crazy, roundabout path, Albert guided Rachel to a place where nothing except total surrender was possible.

She was no longer Rachel Somers with an identity worth protecting or preserving. He had robbed her as thoroughly as any man could of whatever it was she was.

He had stripped her bare. Left her with nothing she could identify with, and in that strange, naked state of being no woman she knew, she found herself connected to a sexuality so powerful that it jolted her beyond everyday reality to some awesome cosmic plane she did not recognize.

“This is not me,” she thought. “This is not anyone.”

That was when he plunged headlong, headstrong, into her, finding in her an intensity she did not know she possessed.

She spread her legs wide, baring her soul, allowing him entry everywhere – allowing him anything, everything. And when he raised himself up above her, supporting himself with his powerful arms, staring down at her with an intensity only he possessed – she understood him perfectly.

“Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, woman… ” she heard the little demon inside her hissing softly in her ear.

For one short moment, the real Rachel Somers, the Rachel Somers inside the writhing, aching, longing body of this particular Rachel Somers, laughed. And though no one else in the entire universe heard, she did. And so she laughed heartily and joyfully at herself, and at Albert, and at her life, and at her search for wisdom, too.

“It’s almost too funny,” she thought.

And there she stood, perfectly poised. Perched, before that formidable plunge into the cosmic void when all that Light hit her.

“He is the most strange and powerful man I’ve ever known,” her brain screamed.

“I am the most strange and powerful woman I’ve ever known,” the echo came back from deep inside her.

And right before she let go and jumped, heart first and ecstatic, in the nothingness before her, she knew, once and for all, now and forever – that nothing in her life would ever be the same again. Nothing would ever be completely clear cut and understandable again. No never. Never ever. That part of her journey was done.

Then she closed her eyes and let the passion – his passion and hers – and the passion of living and loving and of being alive all wrapped in one – finally carry her over the edge.

And as she flew fast, hurtling through space towards her Infinite Self, she screamed, delirious as a sacrificial lamb suddenly released from the agony of the limitations of this earthly existence…

“And this is exactly the way it’s supposed to be… ” she thought as she disappeared.

 

It’s been a mega cool week because my friend Guy Hogan has been featuring Good Pussy Bad Pussy for a whole week on the front page of his sexy Web site The Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette. His site is a wonderful online girl magazine where Guy’s focus is on “sex as art and entertainment”.

Here’s what Guy had to say about me and Good Pussy Bad Pussy: “I would like to re-introduce you to a writer I discovered.  Well, I discovered her for the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette community.  Her name is Amy Aimee and she has her own Category here at The Gazette: Good Pussy Bad Pussy.  There are four posts (this post is number five) in her Category and more will follow and I’ll feature a post from the Good Pussy Bad Pussy Category on the front page on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

Amy says she doesn’t write so-called erotica.  She just writes about life.  Let me just say that the life Amy writes about is hot.  You don’t want to miss the Good Pussy Bad Pussy Special… ”

As he says above, besides featuring me on his front page all week, Guy has created a special “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” Category on his site where you can go in and read some of my pieces about… well… about the ups and downs of Good Pussy Bad Pussy herself and all her adventures.

Check out her/my page here: http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/category/the-work-of-a-aimee/

So far there are the following posts up on Guy’s site:

“Finding Good Pussy Bad Pussy” http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/finding-good-pussy-bad-pussy-by-a-aimee/

“When Rachel made love to Stefan, she knew Real Love is Unconditional” http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/when-rachel-made-love-to-stefan-she-knew-by-a-aimee/

“Addicted to pleasure that can only be gotten through pain” http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/fiction-addicted-to-pleasure-that-can-only-be-gotten-through-pain-by-a-aimee/

Finally an interview with me called: “I write erotica: Amy Aimee” http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/i-write-erotica-amy-aimee/

And besides all the Good Pussy Bad Pussy stuff, Guy always features interesting blogs, hot pictures of lovely nude women, and lots of sexy flash fiction including his very own creations!

Thanks Guy for being you!

So that’s me – Amy Aimee, which I’ve shortened to A. Aimee.

And here’s my question: How would it be to be unabashedly lovely and loving? How would it be?

How would it be to be unequivocally and amazingly lovely and loving? To just amp it up and pull all the stops out? And be that amazing something you know you already are? And not to be half-assed about it but to really let it out and let it fly. You know, your own natural, uninhibited goodness. Your own uncensored, spontaneous womanhood! Your unlimited potential for radiance and loveliness…

It makes you blush just to think about it, doesn’t it? You without all your inhibitions. You without all your insecurities. You without being ground down by everyone’s expectations including your own. Just you – allowing you, allowing yourself, to be in contact with, to feel and actually live the glorious power/divinity/beauty that’s inside you.

We’re on shaky ground here aren’t we?

And well yes, that’s my project.

To explore that, in life – and on paper.

My book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” is an on-paper attempt to explore that… an on-paper expression of that. What does she – Rachel/my heroine and alter-ego – look like and feel like and act like when she’s coming from that space? How does it play out when you’re not sure about much but you feel the power is there… the intoxication… the drive… the impulse? I find it’s an intriguing idea. And yes, quite intoxicating. Whenever I think about it, I just get sucked into it. Drawn in. Feeling heady. Feeling high. Feeling well horny, the life juices flowing in me! Ambitious and absurd as it may seem/sound.

I don’t know why I’m inspired to do this, I just am. If you think it’s intriguing too, you might enjoy my book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale”.

Interestingly, since I finished the book, my heroine, Rachel, simply wouldn’t let me go so I had to write another book about her, which is entitled “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”. This new book is going to be released by my publisher, Bedroom Books, on June 25, 2015.

 

Good pussy bad pussy. I knew that something had awakened in me, something I’d never experienced before. A force, a power, a drive, an energy. Call it good pussy, call it bad pussy, call it whatever you will, but a life force had been awakened in me and I couldn’t put it (her) back to sleep again. Right or wrong. Good or bad. She was awake! She was alive! She wanted to live. And she wanted more.

She, my pussy, was alive in me. I felt her moving in me, reaching out, right or wrong, good or bad. She wanted to taste and touch, to be tasted and touched. She wanted to feel the life force, the energy, moving in and through her. She wanted like liquid desire itself. She wanted because she was, life itself. She wanted because she was, the energy of life itself. And now that she – the genie – was out of the bottle, there was no putting her back again. She was untameable, wild; she wanted to be free, had to be free. Because she loved life, because yes, she was life itself. She was the life force in all of us… she was the creative power of the universe – and yes she was sex. Sex! Sex! Sexual! She was pure and beautiful and couldn’t be kept down or locked up. And now she was awake in me, awake! A ravishing beauty, a hungry cunt, a wantingness for the essence of life. And what was that essence? It was the ecstasy of knowing my own soul, my own being, which was somehow alive and felt like frolicking in that stream of liquid desire that carries one on and on unto a state of orgasmic bliss, which was somehow like coming home and finding a peace that was beyond all comprehension… home, home, home. That’s what I wanted, that’s what she wanted, that’s where she was taking me, taking me, taking me… and there was nothing, nothing I could do about it. No stopping her. No turning back now.

She was me and I was her.

And we were flying.

Excerpt from my book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale” by A. Aimee

The addiction is so powerful that she goes to him even though she knows it will be her undoing. That is how strong the allure is. How powerful. In fact, there is nothing in the whole Universe that is more powerful, more binding than this. Nothing. No here, not now, not ever. It is so tenacious. It has such tentacles, such fine fingers that have already enchanted and bound her up in knots too tight to ever be undone. And so, it is finished, and she goes willingly into his arms. Though he is a liar and a thief and will be her undoing. There is nothing else she can do, so it is written.

He removes the ribbon from her lovely chestnut hair and it tumbles down to her breasts. She murmurs no sound, makes no move, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. His hands are touching her breasts, finding her nipples. He is not kind. There is no kindness in his touch, nor in him. But still, or maybe in spite of this, he always awakens the same mesmerizing passion in her, taking her by surprise and astonishing her into blissful submission.

“Little Princess,” he whispers in her ear, pinching her nipples and kissing her. “Have you been a good girl today?” His fingers are now squeezing her nipples tightly and she moans, sucking in the air softly as she tumbles into the blessed oblivion, if only for a little while.

When he enters her, she knows it will be perfect, as it always is, a perfect match for a perfect moment before the pain of what she has once again done, torments her even more. Until, when he is sound asleep, she slips out the door in terror.

She didn’t remember him ever showing her any kindness. Nor did she expect him too. It was not how she was raised. No. She was raised to believe the mistaken idea that love was abuse and that abuse was love. How else could she explain to herself why she trembled with desire in the face of such insanity? There was no other explanation possible. She was like an alcoholic, addicted to the pleasure that could only be gotten through pain and which could only cause pain.

A look at the themes in “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale”

Do you know the story of the Chinese farmer whose horse runs away? It goes like this:

When the farmer’s neighbor came to console him the farmer said, ‘Who knows what’s good or bad?’  

When his horse returned the next day with a herd of horses following her, the foolish neighbor came to congratulate him on his good fortune.

‘Who knows what’s good or bad?’ said the farmer.

Then, when the farmer’s son broke his leg trying to ride one of the new horses, the foolish neighbor came to console him again.

‘Who knows what’s good or bad?’ said the farmer.

When the army passed through, conscripting men for the war, they passed over the farmer’s son because of his broken leg. When the foolish man came to congratulate the farmer that his son would be spared, again the farmer said, ‘Who knows what’s good or bad?’”

And so on!

And that’s pretty much like my book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy”. Who knows what’s good or bad?

In the book, the main character, Rachel, runs away from an unhappy marriage and discovers and experiences great sexual release in ways that surprise, delight and shock her – but which are not always socially acceptable. Hence the title of the book – Good Pussy Bad Pussy.

So yes… in this book, I wanted to explore how it would be… not to be bound by our social norms and the traditional programming of men and women in terms of who we are and what we’re allowed to do sexually.

Once I started to consider the matter, I found out that it’s a veritable zoo. So the book asks many questions. Questions like – what is Rachel, the heroine of the book, really experiencing? Is it love or abuse? Is it liberation or bondage? Is she really free or not? And who is making these choices for her? How much of all that happens to her in the book is based on social programming and negative social norms about sex? These are some of the questions the book poses through the dilemmas Rachel faces.

Once I let Rachel loose, she took on a life of her own. So I hope you’ll enjoy her ride/read as much as I have. In fact, exploring sex and all these dilemmas with Rachel was so exhilarating that she just kept on going once the book ended. So another Good Pussy Bad Pussy book was born. This new book, entitled “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”, will be released by my publisher Bedroom Books in June.

Hallelujah!

So you’re worried about the rent, you’re worried about your boyfriend, you’re worried about your weight, your age, your health, your career, your future, your parents, your children… the state of the nation, the terrorists, the economy… damn it… you’re worried. Yes you are. And the mind is going on and on and on… it’s like a war zone in there – in your head – and you can’t stop it. Never, ever, ever. And sometimes it’s just too much. Sometimes… well lots of the time, it’s driving you crazy… CRAZY.

Oh how I wish, wish I could turn it off. At least for a little while so I could find some peace. And of course that’s when we turn to drink or drugs or we turn on the television or we go online or exercise or go shopping or eat too much. We’re trying to turn it off, turn off the mind. Yes, turn it off… we’re screaming inside. Do something else. Because… can’t I just have a little peace… why can’t I just relax? Why can’t I just feel okay? What’s going on in me? Why can’t I stop this incessant chatter, the incessant barrage, the never-ending, always active Monkey Mind?

And then, well okay, there is sleep. Yes blessed sleep… at least for some of us, at least for many of us, we get a break, we get a chance to turn off the mind when we sleep… the mind, that incessantly active Monkey Mind… oh blessed sleep…

And then there’s this thing we call sex. And sometimes, maybe oftentimes, there’s this wonderful, magical, fantastic moment when we reach orgasm. Aaaahhh yes… ORGASM! Aaahhh YES ORGASM! When suddenly… at least for a moment or two, we surrender everything! EVERYTHING! And I mean EVERYTHING… we surrender every thought, every word, every concept we have and the mind goes absolutely, positively blank! Yes completely blank! And we’re flying high and we no longer care about the career or the rent or our boss or our weight or even about our boyfriend (even if he’s the one inside you) and we’re just gone – in heaven! Because finally – FINALLY – we’ve lost our f*cking minds! Yes in the moment of orgasm – we literally lose our f*cking minds! And it feels so fabulous! Abso-fucking-lutely fabulous! Because finally we’ve stopped the chatter and are totally present in this amazing NOW moment.

So… no wonder we’re all so hooked on sex – all of us… no wonder…

Because what happens when we’re present in this amazing NOW moment? Well we catch a glimpse of our True Nature which is this timeless, carefree, All-Present, All-Powerful Bliss Consciousness… which is beyond language and beyond thought and beyond everything we can conceptualize which is why… would you like to F*CK????

 

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