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Archive for the ‘Erotica’ Category

Soothing, sighing, softening in the quiet night. Love will soothe us if we let it. As the river flows, so does the Love. All Knowing in its Infinite Kindness. All Present in its Infinite Knowing.

On that fateful night, Albert said, “But you must tell me, Rachel. I must know what happened.”

She was snuggled close, lying on his chest. Moments before he had been deep inside her, thrilling and chilling her. And they had joined once again, in that magical garden that only they could find.

“Rachel,” he said softly as he smoothed down her sumptuous hair as he was wont to do. The smoothness of her skin, the softness, set his soul a quiver. There was just something about her. Some Presence, some Force that drew men to her. This much he knew because he felt it so powerfully.

In the background, the rain beat softly on the windows.

It was quiet night.

“Will you tell me what happened to you?”

She rolled off him and sat up, naked and glorious, tears streaming down her lovely face.

“Oh my darling,” he cried, reaching out to touch her. It pained him so to see her like this because he knew she had been violated in some terrible way he could not fathom. But exactly how it had unfolded, he did not know. And know it, he must. It simply had to be. It was written in the stars… as much as the intertwining of their fates.

“You don’t want to know,” she said softly as he dried her tears.

“I know,” he said, “but I must. The man is so important to my business operations. You have to tell me, Rachel. You have too.”

She sought his arms as their lips met again, hungrily, as if the passion they felt could make the pain go away. But it couldn’t as they both knew.

Still they sought each other, entwined again, desperate for ecstasy and the blessed relief of forgetfulness, if only for a little while.

And when their hungry lovemaking was done, they lay together quietly in the soft, silent night for a long time. Lingering lovingly.

But he was mindful of some awful pain searing her insides. Just as she was mindful of some awful pain searing his insides.

Then, as the rain beat softly on the windows, she sat up, knowing she would have to tell him everything. Just as she knew that the Love was there, holding her firmly to the ground that he was to her. Yes, the Love that was theirs, the Love that was there to soothe and comfort and hold them both in this, their terrible hour of truth.

Yes, Rachel knew that Love would soothe them if they let it.

_____

A glimpse at Rachel and Albert from the “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books by A. Aimee. Available on Amazon here: http://amzn.to/1ron5ee and http://amzn.to/19aUrr6

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That night as I was lying in my bed… I got to thinking about her again… about good pussy bad pussy… I got to thinking…    What was she all about? Where had she led me and where was she leading me n…

Source: The Power of Good Pussy Bad Pussy

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“Who has the nerve to write a series of books under the nomenclature of Good Pussy Bad Pussy?  Well, I’m lucky to know a woman named Amy Aimee who has the nerve.  And not only does she have the nerve she has the talent, too.  I have a relationship with Amy Aimee.  It’s one of those cyber relationships.  She’s an American living in Europe.   She found me.  She found this blog.  We communicate by email.  Sometimes the emails get pretty hot, but we also talk about business: writing, publishing and blogging.  In other words we talk about sex and life and the struggle of being a writer.

She’s written two books of fiction.  I have both of them.  Her work is featured here on the PittsburghFlash.  She has her own category.  Just scan down the sidebar to Categories and her work is under Good Pussy Bad Pussy.  I love her fiction.  The two books are a woman’s view of sex in a patriarchal society.  I love her talent and her ability to write narratives, two novels so far, that not only hold your attention but are exciting and insightful in presenting a woman’s view of sex and the character of men in general.  Men, she’s got us nailed.

Amy allows her protagonist Rachel to do what most women only fantasize about doing: releasing their inner goddesses which lead to repeated sexual frenzy and orgasm.  Bless you, Amy.  We men need this information.  To you, Amy.  A pat on the butt and a kiss on the lips.”   by Guy Hogan, editor of the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette

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

She was no longer Rachel Somers with an identity to protect or preserve. He had freed her, as lovingly and as carefully as any man could, of whatever it was she thought 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 her everyday reality into some awesome cosmic plane she did not recognize.

“This is not me,” she thought and tingled all over with pleasure. “This is not anyone.” And that was when he plunged headlong, headstrong, into her, finding in her a depth she did not know she possessed.

So she spread her legs wide, baring her soul and allowing him entry everywhere – allowing him anything, everything. And then, when he raised himself up above her, supporting himself with his powerful arms, looking down at her with an intensity only he possessed – she knew she would love him always.

Always.

Then for one short moment, the real Rachel Somers, the woman inside the woman inside the woman inside this body she was inhabiting, sighed softly and laughed. And though no one else in the entire universe heard her, she did. And she knew she had found a place and a peace and a platform which belonged to her alone.

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

“Oh Albert,” she heard herself whispering softly to herself, “you are the most strange and wondrous man I have ever known.” And the echo came back immediately from somewhere deep inside her, “And I am the most strange and wondrous woman I have ever known.” And it was true, so true.

Then, right before she let go and jumped, heart first and ecstatic, into the nothingness before her, she knew, once and for all, now and forever – that no matter what happened, nothing in life could ever separate her from Albert. Ever. Nothing. Not even separation itself.

So 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 cried out, delirious and joyful as the beloved sacrificial lamb does when suddenly it is released from the agony of the limitations of this earthly existence…

And as she disappeared into the Light, her heart sang and she gave thanks…

_____

About Rachel and Albert from the “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books.

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Wondering what all the excitement is about & why the Good Pussy Bad Pussy books are getting so many 5 Star reviews?

Well, if this sounds like you and you’d like to read the book, we’re giving the ebook away for free right now. Just to celebrate you and sex and all good things in life.

So….if you’d like to read the first book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale”, all you have to do is send us your email address and we’ll send the ebook to you for free!

Send your email address to: amy.aimee14 (at) hotmail.com

… and we’ll send the ebook off to you right away.

And just so you know what you’re getting into. Everyone says the book keeps them up all night, turning the pages…

and yes…

… It all started with Rachel, our heroine, stuck in an unhappy marriage. And while most unhappily married women only dream of having sex with other men, Rachel actually did. And it got her into all kinds of trouble. From Amsterdam to the French Riviera to New York City… from her blond lover Stefan, to aristocratic Albert, and mad doctor Howard, Rachel tastes forbidden fruit – and likes it. That is until life takes a very surprising turn, yes a very surprising turn!

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Happy, sexy reading!

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That night as I was lying in my bed… I got to thinking about her again… about good pussy bad pussy… I got to thinking…

   What was she all about? Where had she led me and where was she leading me now?

   And what about all the trouble she’d gotten me into before? And what about the innocence of her – the not knowing, the not knowing her power, the not knowing her seductiveness…

   What was she all about?

   And what now?

   Where was she leading me?

   What was going on?

   Why the passion, the longing, the yearning? Why? Why?

   I knew I was beautiful, sensual, and voluptuous…I knew she was beautiful, sensual, voluptuous…

   I knew.

   I knew she was impossible to resist… I knew I was impossible to resist…

   I knew and even liked it. The energy of it, the power of good pussy bad pussy… the wild innocence of her… the magic of her…

   What was this power she had, I had?

   Where did it come from?

   What did it mean?

   Why? Why?

   Where was she going?

   Why was I the center of this force field?

   Why did men love her so, love me so?

   Why did they crave her, crave me, desire her, desire me, lust after her, lust after me so…?

   Why? Why? Why?

 

Later that night, I was awakened by the sound of someone knocking softly on my door. I looked at the clock next to my bed. It was two in the morning. I got out of bed and tiptoed over to the door and said, “Who is it?” even though I knew who it was.

“Anton,” said the husky voice on the other side of the door.

At first I wasn’t sure what to do, though I wasn’t surprised. Then I took a deep breath and opened the door. He rushed in and closed the door firmly behind him. Then he took me in his arms and began kissing me passionately.

“Oh, Rachel,” he said as he smothered me with kisses; he was a man on fire.

His passion made me tremble as he slowly kissed my neck and then found his way to my shoulder. When he got there, he gently pushed my big nightshirt back from my shoulder.

I just stood there and let him, wondering, waiting to see if he would continue or turn and run again.

But this time, he didn’t run and I felt the white hot heat he radiated.

He was burning with desire, burning with desire for me, and it was all coming out in one heady rush. And I had to admit, it was lovely, lovely to feel the heat he radiated, lovely to feel the passion that was consuming him. Hmmm… It, he, lit my fire. Hmmm… Because I was dry and shutdown like him, dry and yearning like him. In fact, we were both like a dry, scorched landscape that was yearning, yearning for rain, dry and yearning for warmth and love… I felt myself softening in his arms, almost swooning in the rush of it.

My breath quickened and I felt the heat rising in me too.

Then I felt my little pussy suddenly coming alive! There she was; the inner pulsing of her! Suddenly she was awake and alive and dancing her lusty little dance!

_____

Excerpt from “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”

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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.

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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.

_____

 

From the “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books…

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