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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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When Albert met Rachel… here’s how it all started.

Albert was restless. He had good looks, money, women, plenty of sex and still he was restless. He sat there fidgeting, thinking, “What’s the point?”

He has everything a man could wish for. Yet the longing in him wouldn’t subside. Not even hours of meditation helped. He kept asking himself, “What’s the point?”

He had his feet up, glazing out his office window at the expanse of the Mediterranean outside his window. Yes, the view was spectacular. As was his house, overlooking the sea. His office was on the lower level and because of the slope of the hill, the view was breathtaking. But at the moment, it didn’t please him. He didn’t want to be ungrateful for all his good fortune, but still he thought, “What’s the point?”

Leonard Cohen was singing in the background:

“Ah baby, let’s get married,
we’ve been alone too long.
Let’s be alone together.
Let’s see if we’re that strong.
Yeah let’s do something crazy,
something absolutely wrong
while we’re waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come. ”

“Yes,” thought Albert as the words of the song caught his attention, “that’s exactly what I’m feeling. I’m just waiting for a miracle… a miracle..”

He pressed replay so he could hear the song from the beginning..
“Baby, I’ve been waiting,
I’ve been waiting night and day.
I didn’t see the time,
I waited half my life away.
There were lots of invitations
and I know you sent me some,
but I was waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.”

He sighed and switched off the music. He didn’t have time to hear the whole song; he had to go. He was supposed to meet Stefan and his latest girlfriend for dinner at Chez Paul’s.

“What’s the point?” he thought as he left.

And that was when it happened, on that warm balmy evening in Nice. It was late August. When he got to Chez Paul’s, Stefan was already there with Rachel, the woman with those amazing green eyes and luxurious chestnut hair. And it was then – at dinner. in his boredom – that Albert decided to take advantage of the agreement he had with Stefan. That he could indulge himself with Stefan’s women when it struck his fancy… and Rachel did. So he did.

After dinner, Albert sent Stefan off on business and took Rachel back to his condominium overlooking the beach to fuck her. But he wasn’t prepared for what happened. He wasn’t prepared for Rachel, not in any way, shape or form.

As it would turn out, it was her innocence which brought him to his knees. Because even though it might have seemed that he was a powerful man, in control, something else was going on. Something he hadn’t expected. The reality was there was a softness about her, a naivety, and openness, which were far more powerful than his seemingly worldly savoir faire.

He was thunderstruck.

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. That it was him – the man of so much confidence and bravado – 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 all 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.

 _____

 

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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When it was finished, he knew it was done. And she knew it too. Knew she had set her mark on his soul, as surely as if it was pre-ordained.  As surely as if it was written in the stars.  And surely it was. Such was the intensity of their meeting, their coming together.

Powerful as it was, Rachel did not tremble nor flinch but met Albert fully and freely – not aghast or ashamed or shy at opening completely before his eyes, mouth, fingers, touch, taste, or entry.

“You want entry here?” she thought as he came at her, touching, tasting and she replied to his onslaught with all her heart and soul, “You want entry here? You do? Yes?… well, please come in. You want entry here? Well yes, please come in. You want…” And so she met him, opening wide mouth, heart, thighs. Opening wide pussy, heart, soul. Opening. And opening again. Wide, wider, wide.

“How can this be?” he thought as she met him, unafraid, opening, wide, wider, wide.

Soft skin, smell, touch, labia, clit, pulsing, pleasing, pleasuring.

The audacity of her.

Then lips, hair, teeth, eyes, nipples, breasts, heart, mind, body, soul… aaahhh…aaaaahhhhh…

Flying higher, falling deeper.

Gone was he in the maze of delight she spun around him, dissolving into a million, billion particles of Light. No longer knowing where he ended and she began. Nor did he care. He was beyond that now. Beyond watching from a distance, beyond keeping some part of himself uninvolved…beyond… but he no longer cared, no longer cared for his own safety or sovereignty. So powerful was the pull of her, so seductive the web she wove, so soft.

“Rachel,” he whispered, coming back to the surface, hoping, praying the world would still be there. Hoping, praying. And lo’ and behold, it was. The world was still there and so was she. Sumptuous hair and all. Green eyes, peaceful and present after following him and then leading him carefully, daringly, step by step, over the edge into that great mysterious abyss of ecstasy and delight.

Yes, she knew what to do. She knew the way. She knew the how. Yes, she did. Which is why, in the infinity of things, purity and love are the strongest.

And so her spirit whispered softly in his ear, “You want… entry, here, there and everywhere?.” She held the key.

And she knew the password too, “Yes, please come in… yes, please come in.”

_______

A glimpse at Rachel and Albert from the “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books by A. Aimee.

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Rachel has this purity about her, an innocence. And it was her innocence that brought Albert to his knees. You can read here how the Good Pussy Bad Pussy tales began…

Good Pussy Bad Pussy

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…

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Good Pussy Bad Pussy

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…

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Headlong, headstrong… falling into that blissful state of surrender…

Good Pussy Bad Pussy

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…

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Here’s a glimpse of a very powerful moment in Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity – when Rachel experienced Unconditional Love with Stefan…

Good Pussy Bad Pussy

“When I made love to Stefan. I knew it in my heart… I knew and understood that I had gone to a space beyond good pussy bad pussy… gone to a space beyond… because…

Real Love is unconditional.

Real Love is beyond borders.

Real Love is beyond names.

Real Love is Universal, all embracing, free.

Real Love is free flowing. Free flowing love.

Real Love is liberation.

Liberation from bondage.

Liberation from the prison of ideas.

Liberation from pain.

Liberation. Into the flow of Life.

(photo: Egotastic.com)

Feeling the free-flowing Life Force.

Love!

And there I was, feeling it again.

Feeling the Love coursing through my veins… in and through me!

Alive! Moving! Breathing! Alive!

No ownership, no yours or mine, no this or that.

Just free and unlimited, free and unlimited Bliss.

Beyond the cage of words, beyond limitation, beyond good or bad.

Beyond you belong to me…

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