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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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We were sitting on his couch in front of the crackling fire and Anton was explaining to me, “According to Buddhist philosophy, there are three moments when it is particularly easy to attain, or at least get a glimpse of, the enlightened mind – and that is when we sneeze, have an orgasm, and at the moment of death.”

“Really!” I exclaimed, surprised that orgasm could have anything to do with enlightenment. “When we have orgasm?”

“Yes,” he replied, “or at least that’s what the Buddhists say. They say it is because when we have an orgasm, we experience the complete release of all thought processes, at least for a moment. And this gives us a chance to experience what they call the Clear Light of Rigpa, which is our original nature.

“Rigpa?”

“Yes, and by that they mean the field of pure consciousness, which is our true nature… The highly trained practitioner is able to consciously experience this when he or she goes beyond the thought processes, beyond thought or thinking… “

He paused and the fire crackled and leaped before us.

“And the connection to orgasm?” I asked.

“Well, just think about what happens when you have a really good orgasm…” he replied softly. “It’s like everything is gone – just blown away… forgotten… and all you feel is this incredible bliss. There is nothing else… the whole world has disappeared… everything… every thought, every worry, every care is completely gone… at least for a moment or two… or maybe even three… if you’re lucky.”

He was so right.

Everything disappears when you have a good orgasm…

I sighed and giggled softly at his words… and when I did, he said gently, “Rachel, will you let me tie you up and make love to you?”

His words really caught me by surprise, considering what we were just talking about.

“What?” I gasped, feeling chills run up and down my spine.

“Will you let me tie you up and make love to you?”

His voice was husky in that special way and even though he wasn’t looking at me, I felt the intensity of his desire.

Tie me up and make love to me?

I felt my whole system reacting with shock.

The restful calm was broken; I just couldn’t get my head around what he just said.

His hands had already found my breasts and I was sighing softly at his touch.

“May I,” he said again, insisting that I answer. “I need to know because I need to see you like that, Rachel.”

I trembled at the intensity of his words. There was just something about the way he said it that made me shiver all over. It was like we were suddenly entering another realm, another energy field. I had the feeling that if I let him, he would take me to a place I’d never been to before – that was how intense he was.

“You know you can trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

I trembled at the thought of being wholly in his power, at his mercy.

He had unfastened my bra and was pinching my nipples with just enough pressure to make me want more… much, much more.

“Will you let me, Rachel? Will you?”

_____

Excerpt from “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”

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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.

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

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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 there was something about the electricity that arose between them when he touched her and she touched him that awakened in them a depth of desire and passion that neither of them had known before.

“Rachel,” he whispered softly as his hands found her breasts and their lips met, his manhood pulsing against her. If he had wanted to keep his heart at a distance, it was already too late. There was just something about her. Something about her uncanny ability to be present – to actually be there – that had brought Albert to his knees and made all his worldly success seem insignificant.

But he didn’t notice or care: all he noticed and knew was the singing of his heart, a song that sounded like a great symphony in his ears.

And it was the same for her. When all the Light broke over her, she knew he had led her to another realm, a parallel Universe where she would want to linger all of her days.

Her radiant hair was sumptuous in his eyes and in hers and his delight (and hers) made her tingle all over. She looked into his eyes and did not flinch because even though she might have seemed confused and insecure in this new world where she now lived and lingered, at some deeper level, she knew exactly who she was – and in some mysterious way, he understood this too and respected her for it.

It was as if she had an inner compass that would never fail her. An inner compass that knew the way. It was as if she knew, at some deeper level, that if she stuck to the love, kept going in the direction of love, it would somehow carry her through – regardless of the cost, regardless of the storms.

And it was as if he knew it too… knew that she knew… and so, somehow, in some mysterious, roundabout way, it was he who clung to her. Because the weak may at times conquer the strong (even though it often looks otherwise).

“Albert,” she whispered softly in his ear and he tingled all over in anticipation, hearing that great symphony in his ears. So he trembled ever so slightly as he stood and embraced her, smoothing down her sumptuous hair as he was wont to do. And his soul said ‘aaahh’ as she let him wrap his arms around her and the blissful sigh resonated through his being.

Then after they slid into his big bed, she lay open and peaceful and perfectly still, arms above her head as he entered her. And as she let herself fall deeper and deeper into some marvelous, miraculous Universe of Bliss, he came rushing headlong after her, amazed at where they were headed. Headlong… headstrong… into the Blinding Light.

And though it might not have been apparent to all, for those who had eyes to see, it was obvious that in the infinity of all things, purity and love are the strongest…

In the infinity of all things, that is…

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‘Good pussy bad pussy. I knew 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, she was awake! She was alive! And she wanted more.’

 The Great truth– the amazing power of sex

& 2 books that explore this power

The first book: Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale

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 feels the amazing power of sex. And so she tastes forbidden fruit – and likes it. That is until life takes a very surprising turn!

The second book: Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity

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 feels the amazing power of sex. As a result, she 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 the amazing power of sex!

 

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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.

August 26, 2015 (flowers for AA) 016

“Will you tell me what happened to you?” he asked. 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.

 

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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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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?” he asked. 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.

 _____

About Rachel and Albert from “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”: http://amzn.to/19aUrr6

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Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale is a “great freaking book” says reviewer and blogger Renee Giraldy. “This was a wildly created bunch of dysfunctional people – too good to pass it up.”

She also said, “u r too cool! TY TY I LOVED the book and I hope I can help getting the word out. I really think we all need an Albert! U totally rocked that character but not as much as Rachel…”

Read the rest of what Renee has to say here… about Good Pussy Bad Pussy (Rachel’s Tale) by A. Aimee @AmyAimee14 #review.

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Two books that explore the amazing Power of Sex

‘Good pussy bad pussy. I knew 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, she was awake! She was alive! And she wanted more.’

The first book: Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale

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!

The second book: Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity

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.

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