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It was her innocence that brought him to his knees

Posted in A.Aimee, Erotic fiction, Erotic romance, Erotica, Flash Fiction, Good Pussy Bad Pussy, Intimate adventures, Literary fiction, Love story, Modern love story, Romance, Sex, Sex and ecstasy, tagged , , , , , , , on May 13, 2015| Leave a Comment »

It was her innocence that brought him to his knees. It might have seemed that he was a powerful man, in control, but her softness, naivety, and openness were far more powerful than his seemingly worldly savoir faire. Was it a cruel twist of fate or poetic justice that it turned out that it was him, Albert, who was afraid of taking the plunge. He – the man of so much confidence and bravado – was the one who was afraid of leaping into the unknown.

Her wonderful, sumptuous chestnut hair framed her lovely face, but still he trembled inside, knowing it was truly she, this green-eyed beauty he hardly knew, who was leading him into uncharted waters.

It was so unexpected, it had taken him by surprise.

But he had to admit he was the one who was awestruck, trembling on the brink. But how could it be? How could a man like Albert Giovanni end up here?

The first time he fucked her, that very night, that very first night, it had just been business as usual. The usual good fuck as he was wont to do. A fast, professional fuck where they both came hard and fast, giving satisfaction to both. And when it was done, he thought it was done. Over. Another fast fuck with another beautiful woman, as had been his way.

He rolled over in the big, low bed and sighed. Closed in upon himself. Self-satisfied. But then the strangest thing happened; it just did.

And he found himself, to his own great and everlasting surprise, turning slowly towards her again on that low bed of his. He was quite sure, quite positive in fact, that he was not doing the turning. It was as if the turning towards her was happening by itself. It was definitely not something he decided to do. Definitely not something he planned or even wanted… but it was happening anyway. And as it unfolded, he watched as he began to make love to Rachel again, slowly and gently this time.

‘Whatever am I doing?’ he thought, as he caressed her and heard her sigh. But things felt different when he touched her this time, he noticed; they just did. So he continued.

‘This is another kind of love-making,’ he thought. A kind of love-making he hadn’t tasted before. Because it felt different. It just did. It felt… somehow real. Yes, real. Like heartfelt or like… well he wasn’t quite sure how it felt because it was something he’d never actually felt before. So how could he know something he’d never known before. Never tasted before… But it was happening anyway. Despite himself. Regardless of himself. Regardless. It seemed to have its own life.

‘What’s going on?’ he thought as he felt the sea air change around him. ‘What is this…’ But it was beyond his control.

It was as if a great tide from a great ocean was coming thundering in and washing over him. Bringing with it, this mysterious sea change which was sweeping through his heart.

There was no denying it.

There was a wind coming up, a great powerful wind from somewhere, from somewhere unknown and far away, from some great depth that he had within him that he’d never experienced before.

So he stopped, even though he was deep inside her, and swept back her sumptuous chestnut hair and looked into those mysterious green eyes of hers. And when he looked, he was surprised to find she was actually there. Looking back at him, meeting him there where he was, not flinching, not wavering. Just there, fully present with him, a soft smile on her lips.

‘She’s actually here with me,’ he heard the words echoing inside his head. ‘She’s actually here… present… present… ‘

That was when he knew something profound was happening between them and he felt her open and allow him to reach her depths. He was quite unprepared for how it felt. Quite stunned. It was as if the wind was rushing in his ears, making his heart tremble. And he knew he’d been allowed to enter some sacred space, as an inexplicable unleashing of universal forces that were beyond his control took place.

From my new book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”.  To be released on June 26, 2015. You can pre-order the book on Amazon here: http://amzn.to/19aUrr6

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A man reading a woman’s innermost thoughts?

Posted in A.Aimee, Artistic freedom, Erotic fiction, Erotic romance, Good Pussy Bad Pussy, Literary fiction, Modern love story, Romance, Sex, Sexual freedom, Sexual thriller, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on May 7, 2015| Leave a Comment »

When a male voice artist contacted me and asked me if he could try his hand – or should I say his voice – on reading my book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale” – I thought: What – a man reading the innermost, private thoughts of a woman??? Could that work?

Because you see, my book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” is written in the first person, so the whole story is told by a woman – the heroine, Rachel. As a result, the readers are constantly exposed to Rachel’s innermost thoughts and feelings in all areas of her life, including in and during sex! Because the book is an attempt to follow Rachel in her struggle to find freedom from an unhappy marriage and to find her place in a dangerous world full of men, sex, lovers, and difficult choices. Because as Rachel soon finds out, everything she does has consequences – including some that are most strange and totally unexpected!

So Good Pussy Bad Pussy is a very, very personal book because it’s all inside one woman’s head as reviewer and blogger Renee Giraldy said in her 5 Star review, “I felt like this was too real at times, like I was sneaking a peak at Rachel’s diary.”

So could a man read the start of Rachel’s tale and pull it off in a convincing manner?

I wondered!

But then I thought: Well I’m not a reverse sexist and I am working for more sexual freedom and equality for all – so why not let a man give it a try? Man or woman, we all have thoughts and emotions relating to life, our sexuality, and the situations and dilemmas our sexual drive and impulses get us into!

So I told him yes – you can give it a try! We agreed that he would read the first 10 minutes of the book (the first 5 pages). And you have the result here – which is lovely indeed. Because he used his best pillow talk voice on Good Pussy Bad Pussy!

If you’d like to listen to the result, all you have to do is click here to hear a man reading the first 10 minutes of “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” in his rich, full, sexy voice!

Hope you enjoy hearing his interpretation of “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” as much as I have!

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Surrendering to the Light

Posted in A.Aimee, Erotic fiction, Erotic romance, Erotica, Flash Fiction, Good Pussy Bad Pussy, Literary fiction, No Mind, Orgasm, Sex, Sex and ecstasy, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on April 22, 2015| 1 Comment »

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, into 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.

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Karaoke and The Good Pussy Bad Pussy Special

Posted in A.Aimee, Artistic freedom, Erotica, Good Pussy Bad Pussy, Guy Hogan, Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette, Sex, Sex and ecstasy, Sexual freedom, tagged , , , , , , , , on April 18, 2015| 1 Comment »

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!

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Finding Good Pussy Bad Pussy

Posted in A.Aimee, Artistic freedom, Erotic fiction, Erotica, Forbidden fruit, Good Pussy Bad Pussy, Literary fiction, Sex, Sex and ecstasy, sex energy, Sexual freedom, tagged , , , , , , , , , on March 25, 2015| Leave a Comment »

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

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Addicted to pleasure that can only be gotten through pain

Posted in A.Aimee, Abuse, dysfunctional relationships, Erotic fiction, Erotica, Forbidden fruit, Literary fiction, Orgasm, Sex, Sex and ecstasy, Sexual thriller, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on March 17, 2015| 3 Comments »

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.

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