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Posts Tagged ‘Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity’

“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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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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After Albert ruthlessly lets an important business associate fuck Rachel, he’s mortified by what he’s done and goes looking for her in the middle of the night. When he finds her at 4 am, he brings her back to his house…  In this excerpt from the book, Rachel tells what happened next…

“When we got to the house, he led me in, took me to his bedroom, undressed me and put me to bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Some hours later, I woke up and stumbled out to the bathroom. I had to get rid of the taste and smell of Felix, so I brushed my teeth and took a hot shower. Then I went back to bed and fell fast asleep again. When I woke up later it was past noon. Albert came in and tended to me like a sick child, bringing me breakfast in bed. He sat on the edge of the low bed, watching me eat hungrily. We still hadn’t spoken.

When I finished eating, he removed the tray and came and sat on the edge of the bed again. He pushed the hair back from my face and looked at me carefully. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said ruefully. “It was wrong of me…”

When I heard his words, it was like a dam burst inside me and I broke down crying.

“I should have known,” he continued slowly, “I should have respected you for who you are Rachel, from the beginning…” His words only made me sob more. I was so exhausted, confused, and mad. I didn’t know what to make of him or of myself or of what I was feeling.

Then I stopped crying and looked at him.  “Albert” I said slowly, “I must know…was it liberation or bondage? What happened last night?  Which was it… please tell me! I must know!”

When I said those words, he burst out laughing. “Oh Rachel, dearest Rachel! You are simply a miracle. A  miracle! Where have you been all my life?” He bent forward and took my face in his hands and hungrily kissed my lips. I was surprised by his hunger. There was something about him, a depth I’d never met before in any man. I remembered how I’d wanted him the last time we were together. How true and real it had seemed at the time. But was it still true now – after all he had put me through?

He drew back from me and sighed. “The wise would say true liberation is only to be found in freedom from the bondage to our desires.” When I didn’t reply, he continued. “I studied for years in the East when I was young – with a Zen master. Only to find myself a slave to my own raging desires. And now there is you. Here in my bed.” He smiled. “Liberation will just have to wait. A little longer.”

He pulled back the covers and put his hands on my naked breasts. I had forgotten I was naked. I sighed at his touch, not knowing if I was mad at him anymore or where life was taking me. So I let him. His caress was gentle and kind. I sank back into the pillows and soon he was kissing my neck and breasts. He sat up again, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Albert, I should call Stefan.”

“Don’t worry, I sent him to Cairo on business last night.” He was pulling off his pants. “I told him I’d look after you.” There was just the tiniest of smiles at the corner of his lips as he said these words, while his hands were seeking my breasts again. I didn’t even have time to pout because he bent forward to kiss me, whispering, “Now will you turn off that little head of yours and stop worrying! Everything will work out just fine. I promise you…”

Good pussy bad pussy. Liberation bondage… I couldn’t know and didn’t know. All I knew was the intensity of his hands and his mouth, bearing down on me, like before making me surrender and follow his every move. And even though I was sore after the rough treatment Felix had given me the night before, I felt my hips begin their little dance, quite on their own, as Albert reached down to touch me and caress my wet pussy. He was gentle and I was sure he knew I was sore.

“Hmmm,” he sighed moving softly with me and pleasuring me in ways I did not know were possible. And when I was moaning and begging him to take me, he finally entered me, plunging himself ever deeper into my waiting womb. And there it was again, the intense thrill of being possessed by this incredible man. And once again his timing was perfect, his touch exquisite, and we exploded together, into the mystical, beautiful space of his big white bed.

 Oh Albert!

From “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale”

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Looking for some exciting, sexy, thought-provoking Holiday reading? For yourself or as a gift to someone near and dear, try the “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books. There are 2 of them and both books are getting lots of 5 Star reviews on Amazon and Goodreads.

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Here’s a little about the books:

Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale by A. Aimee

It all started with Rachel 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!

Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity by A. Aimee

Just when Rachel thinks she can settle down with the man of her dreams, life takes a dramatic turn and he gets kidnapped. In a frantic attempt to help, Rachel finds herself getting sucked into a dangerous web of deceit and sexual intrigue.

From the House of Sin on Cap Ferrat to an isolated Buddhist monastery in the mountains of upstate New York, Rachel once again finds herself on the battle field of our times, both sexually and emotionally. Then, in a blinding flash of insight that lays bare the haunted alleyways of her soul, Rachel realizes that things are not what they seem to be. Will she find her way out of captivity or will she remain in the shackles of the old world order?

In short: Sex. Deceit. Lust. Captivity. And maybe … the love of a lifetime.

The books are available as printed books, ebooks and Kindle. Here are the links to the Kindle editions on Amazon:

Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale: amzn.to/1lvdAcN

Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity: http://amzn.to/1LKFsC0

Happy Holiday Reading to You!

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It was as if there was this great sorrow in each of them, a sorrow that was unrequited love, a sorrow that was a song without words, a song without beginning or end. And it was a love so deep and vast and wide that neither of them could comprehend it. And yet it was there, underneath it all, binding them together and blinding them in its Light. So even if they walked and talked and laughed and loved, the Light of this Love flowed through each of them like a mighty river, like a mighty, powerful current which was animating all of Life, including them.

And sometimes they touched upon it in their innocent unknowingness and when this happened, the vast aching and longing was stilled for a moment, stilled and satisfied and surrendered. Because they had unwittingly come home, back to the beginning, back to the beginning of each of us, which was the end of each of us, which was the start and the finish and the stars and the sun and the moon and the wind…

“Rachel,” he said and it touched her heart.

“Yes,” she replied softly.

“I love you.”

“I know,” she said and was as quiet as a soft wind on some far distance ocean that no one ever saw or heard.

And when he heard her words, he smiled and his soul was at peace, as it went dancing through the universe, happy and free at last.

_____

The melody that played in his heart was the same as the melody that played in hers. Though he did not know it, nor did she. But connected they were, beyond time and space, as truly we all are.

It is a wonder how we can go on for as long as we do in our utter ignorance of who we really are, with that sorrow that is unrequited love, tearing at our heartstrings and eating our souls with its never-ending longing.

Oh song of songs!

How we are longing!

Longing for that sacred touch which is our very own, for that homecoming which is beyond any earthly home we’ve ever known, for that surrendering which is beyond any surrender we’ve ever experienced… a surrendering beyond comprehension, where everything falls into place… into that blessed, sacred space, beyond time and remembrance… that we call love…

_____

 

About Rachel & Albert from the Good Pussy Bad Pussy books.

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Here’s the longer, original version of my popular blog about the delightful experience we call “orgasm” and losing our f*cking minds…

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…

So what’s with the mind, what’s with this Monkey Mind? Well it’s like this. There’s this world out there with all its people and things and situations and then we have our “thoughts” about all these people, things and situations. In other words, we have our ideas about whatever is going on “out there”. And well, it’s our thoughts about what’s going on out there that determine how we experience life. In other words, thing happens and then we have our thoughts about what is going on. And it’s not so much the people and the things that are happening that determine our experience, but rather it’s our thoughts about the people and the things that are happening which determine our experience. Get the difference? It might seem subtle at first but it’s so important to see and understand the difference if it’s freedom you’re looking for.

Anyway… so it goes like this. If you think something is good, well then you feel pretty happy about the people or the situation and if you think something is not so good, well then you feel less happy about the people or the situation or maybe even sad or angry. And well that’s about it! That’s the story of your life and of mine – or the short version of how we come to experience life the way we do.

So what happens for most of us is… then… we have all these interpretations, all these stories about how things “should” be. About how our life should be different and about how our boyfriend should be different and how our careers should be different and how our boss should be different and our weight should be different and our appearance should be different and that’s why it’s as I say, a war zone in your mind… a constant war zone… which can be and often is… very stressful.

And that’s the double truth Ruth – we get to live, breathe and feel however we interpret the various people and situations in our lives.

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 fabulous! Fabulous! Because finally we’ve stopped the chatter and are totally present in this amazing NOW moment.

So… no wonder we’re 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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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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Here’s a fun post about Good Pussy Bad Pussy and Rachel’s many orgasms and writer’s block by my friend Guy Hogan. Guy is the publisher of the hot, online girlie magazine, Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette which features “sex as art and entertainment”. You can check out his site which is dedicated to the glory of women and their wonderful bodies (& much, much more) here: http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/

So here’s what Guy wrote on September 11, 2015:

“Hello, hello, hello, all you readers and writers and rock ‘n’ rollers and lovers of erotica who live all over the world!  Welcome to today’s edition of the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette.  If you are a regular visitor of my little girlie magazine, you know all about Amy Aimee and her protagonist Rachel who is so orgasmic she has orgasm after orgasm even when she finds herself in terrible situations where she shouldn’t have orgasms.  You know, good pussy bad pussy.  The woman has little control over her pussy.  But Amy’s work is about a lot more than just sex.  It’s really about life and relationships and the oh so dangerous world we all live in.  I mean so much of her work comes straight from the headlines of every news outlet, especially book 2.  I’m reading it now.

But I digress…

I feature Amy’s work on the front page of my little girlie magazine.  She has her own category here at The Gazette.  And we email each other several times a week.  We like each other and we support each other.  And recently she’s been supporting me, helping me to survive my writer’s block.

Here is part of the email she sent me today.  I can’t share with you the entire email, because that would be kissing and telling (we do get a little intimate).  Her advice about surviving writer’s block is the best advice I’ve ever heard or read about getting through writer’s block.

Rock on, my brothers and sisters!

*****

Dear Guy,

Thanks for the update. It sounds like you are doing well.

I have a different idea about the experience you call “writer’s block”. I think people (you and everyone else) only experience what you call “writer’s block” because you are trying to force or trying too hard to write. My experience is that inspiration “comes” to me when I am open and waiting (very sexual actually)… It’s kind of like trying to force an orgasm – that never works. But if you’re open and going with the flow – in other words – allowing and being present in the moment… well then wham bam…. there it is! The wonderful inspiration comes and is just there!

You can quote me on this if you want – it might make a lovely post…

*****

Yes, my dear, it does make a lovely post.  And the following interview I did with you several months ago makes for an even better post.

*****

Here is Guy’s interview:

I WRITE EROTICA: AMY AIMEE

Guy Hogan: A. Aimee, let me congratulate you on the publication of Good Pussy Bad Pussy.  I haven’t read an erotic novel in years and I was lucky to read yours.  Tell us a little about yourself.

A Aimee: I wanted to be beautiful and then I realized beauty is in the eye of the beholder and then I wanted to be good and then I realized goodness was in the eye of the beholder. When I realized this I decided to please me instead since I found out that pleasing others is a hopeless task! And writing “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale” was one of the ways in which I pleased myself.

I also wrote “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” because I wanted to explore and write about a woman who allowed herself to go beyond what is normally acceptable for married women and who discovered and experienced amazing orgasmic release in ways which both shocked and surprised her. Plus I wanted to write about a woman who wasn’t so hung up as most women are today with the ownership of a partner. So even if my heroine Rachel is often confused, insecure and conflicted, she is also more free and open then most women are today – and I wanted to see where this would take her. Especially when you think about how limited and locked down in terms of our sexuality most people in couple relationships are today. Which makes it very difficult for us to find the ecstatic, orgasmic release we are all yearning for…

Guy Hogan: Did you start out writing erotica?

A Aimee: I’ve written many books – both fiction and non-fiction.

Guy Hogan: There is a lot of explicit sex in Good Pussy Bad Pussy.  Do your friends and family know that you write XXX-rated fiction?  And if they do, what is their reaction?

A Aimee: It’s really interesting to notice how most people frame the work we’re doing. They call it “erotica” or “porn” or “xxx-rated fiction” and well I didn’t think of any of these things when I was writing “Good Pussy Bad Pussy”. Isn’t that interesting? I didn’t have any of these labels in my head. I just wrote a book about a woman exploring her sexuality, feeling that our sexuality is just a normal part of our lives. So I didn’t put it in a special category. And when you think about it, not only is sex completely normal, sex and our sexuality is probably the strongest human drive of all. So as far as I’m concerned, the real question is – how come we separate sex like we do from the rest of our lives? And why are there so many taboos around something that is so wonderful, joyful, amazing and fun as sex is? As I say in my “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” books (yes I just finished “Good Pussy Bad Pussy book 2”): Nothing satisfies like sex. Nothing completes like sex. Nothing releases like sex. Nothing can compete with sex.

As for my family. My parents are dead and so is my ex-husband, so I figure they don’t have a problem with my book since they left their physical bodies behind when they crossed over to the other side! And without physical bodies, I doubt if sex is an “issue” for them anymore! As for my 3 sons – well one of them designed the cover of the book and the other 2… well that’s their problem!

Guy Hogan: Your novel is about a lot more than just explicit sex.  It’s a great story about a woman on a journey of self discovery.  Tell us a little about Rachel, your protagonist.

A Aimee: Yes my heroine, Rachel, is just as confused and “fucked up” as the rest of us are – maybe the only difference is she actually does the stuff that many of us are just thinking about doing in our heads! So she actually lets herself go and it surprises and shocks her. And not only that, she then gets to experience the many unexpected consequences of her choices and what that leads to…

Guy Hogan: Do you watch porn?  And if you do, what kind of porn do you like to watch?

A Aimee: I’ve never watched what you call “porn”. Don’t even really know what it is. But I love sex. I love thinking about it, reading about it, writing about it, and enjoying it…

Guy Hogan: What advice can you offer to other women who want to break into the field of erotica?

A Aimee: Again I wouldn’t call it specifically erotica. I would just say – be yourself – express yourself freely and if sex is a part of the story you want to tell – well then go for it! We can only change the world by being the change we want to see. So sexual freedom and enjoying our sexuality can only happen one person at a time…

Guy Hogan: Tell us where to purchase Good Pussy Bad Pussy.

A Aimee: You can buy the book on Amazon, both as a printed book and as a Kindle edition. Plus the book is available as on Ebook on many sites.”

Thanks Guy for all your love and support! Amy

To see more of my posts & sex ramblings on Guy’s site, click here: http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/category/the-work-of-a-aimee/

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