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Here is a glimpse of Rachel and Albert from “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”.

The Melody That Played in His Heart

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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My friend Guy Hogan, publisher and editor of the online girlie magazine the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette, always says “The best stories about sex are not about sex at all.” Now what does he mean by that? Well he explains it very nicely in this little piece below where he writes about me and my Good Pussy Bad Pussy books. I hope you enjoy his wise words – and thank you Guy!

“Good Pussy Bad Pussy: Romance and Sexuality by Guy Hogan

Hello hello hello hello hello, fans of girlie magazines who live all over the world!  Welcome to my little girlie magazine, the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette.

How’s everyone doin’?

I was at my workstation so early this morning (around 2:30 a.m.) that I had to take a long nap before posting this my second post for the day.  But that’s a good thing, because when I took my nap I had no idea what else to blog about.  Now I know exactly what to blog about: the work of Amy Aimee.

I discovered Amy Aimee…Well, I discovered her for the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette community.  What I like and admire about her work is the mixture of romance and sexuality she is able to invest her characters with.  It’s an intoxicating mix for an old romantic like myself.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again and again and again.  The best stories about sex are not about sex at all.  The best stories about sex are really about characterization; they are really about relationships no matter how explicit the sex may be.

Spank my bare bottom and call me a nudist.  You know you can’t beat that with a stick!

Amy has her own category here at The Gazette where you will find her fiction and a revealing interview, too.  The category is Good Pussy Bad Pussy.  Check it out.

Amy, the Old Soldier salutes you!

Guy Hogan”

Link to the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette: http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/

Link to the Good Pussy Bad Pussy posts on Pittsburgh Flash Fiction: http://bit.ly/1O6L7F4

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In the run-up to the release of my new book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity” on June 26th, you might want to read (or re-read) the first book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale” just to warm up and get your juices flowing!

Lots of people are loving “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale”, which editor and publisher Guy Hogan of the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette says is “a perfect example of sex as art and entertainment”. And then he adds the book is “a must read for all who appreciate the mysteries of sexuality and the human condition”.

You can also sign up for the Goodreads giveaway of “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale” which is running now until June 18. Just click here to sign up: http://bit.ly/1FFLQFK

In my new book, “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”, the beautiful and naïve Rachel is once again challenged because just when she thinks she can settle down with the man of her dreams, life takes a sudden, dramatic turn. Then in the flash of the eye, Rachel finds herself getting sucked into a web of dangerous deceit and sexual intrigue.

Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity cover

From the House of Sin on Cap Ferrat to an isolated Buddhist monastery in the mountains of upstate New York, Rachel is once again 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 the course of the book, Rachel faces many dilemmas and difficult questions and must ask herself, what is she really experiencing? Is it love or abuse? Is it liberation or bondage? Is she really free or not? And who is making these choices for her? How much of all that happens to her is based on social programming and negative social norms about sex?

You can pre-order the book on Amazon here: http://amzn.to/19aUrr6

Or order the printed book on Amazon UK here: http://amzn.to/1IGMKoY

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The sky was so very blue the day his heart cracked open. So very blue.

“Come home with me, Rachel,” he said. “Please.”

She was silent for a very long moment. They were sitting in his Porsche, overlooking the Mediterranean. It was October on the French Riviera. He held his breath.

“But I can’t” she whispered softly. “You know I can’t.”

And yes, it was true, he did know it. He knew she couldn’t. In fact, he’d even said it from the beginning – that she would have to go back. But still he felt how the shaft of pain tore at his heart. And even if he knew that he knew it all along, even if he knew it from the beginning, he remembered the softness of her skin in his big white bed. She had been a delicate flower, somehow fresh and vulnerable and new for him in a way that he’d never experienced before.

Her lips were warm and sensual. Her breasts, lovely, perfect. Her pussy, waiting, welcoming… And then there was her presence, her fluidity, her openness. The sumptuous hair that framed her lovely face.

It took his breath away. She took his breath away. She was so there, so right for him. Why did she have to go?

They had had two days of uninterrupted magic, strangely enough, in the midst of all the turmoil and chaos. When time stood still. An anomaly – as if a freak of nature had occurred, or so it seemed, when the Universe stood still for them. And for those two days out of time, Albert and Rachel had belonged utterly to each other.

For some strange reason, he remembered her sitting by his pool, dangling her feet in the water. He wanted to take her in his arms, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He sensed the gathering of tears in her eyes, tears that did not come.

“Oh Rachel,” he sighed. “We were doing so nicely…” The sky was so very blue that day. “… so nicely,” he said again as his words disappeared into the very blueness of that October sky.

He was no longer sure if the tears he felt coming were in his eyes or hers, so entwined were they at that moment. So incredible had their meeting been, however short lived it was.

Truly you cannot know what’s in another’s heart, he thought, and yet at that moment, he was quite sure he did. Quite sure he knew Rachel and knew what she was thinking and feeling as if she was his very own self. The silence between them was deep and loving.

But then her words cut through the warm October air, waking him from his dream of love undying, “You were right from the beginning, Albert, I have to go back… I have to.”

When he heard her words, he turned on the engine and drove fiercely back to the hotel where she was staying with Stefan. He didn’t say another word, but there was real pain in his eyes when he kissed her goodbye.

Two days later, she had gone back to Amsterdam on her own, leaving Albert and Stefan behind.

Excerpt from the new book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity” by A. Aimee. To be released on June 26, 2015. Available for pre-order on Amazon now:  http://amzn.to/19aUrr6

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“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 and I belong to you.

Beyond good pussy bad pussy… beyond…

A Divine Knowing, a Divine Certainty…

That this is Love… Love! Unconditional Love!

The free flowing of Life.

The free expression of Life.

The free movement of it in and through me.

The bliss of that, the joy of that, the present moment awareness of that…

LOVE!

FREEDOM!

FREE!

Even if only for a little while…”

Excerpt from “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity” by A. Aimee

Amazon link: http://amzn.to/1IGMKoY

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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.

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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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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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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A look at the themes in “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale”

Do you know the story of the Chinese farmer whose horse runs away? It goes like this:

When the farmer’s neighbor came to console him the farmer said, ‘Who knows what’s good or bad?’  

When his horse returned the next day with a herd of horses following her, the foolish neighbor came to congratulate him on his good fortune.

‘Who knows what’s good or bad?’ said the farmer.

Then, when the farmer’s son broke his leg trying to ride one of the new horses, the foolish neighbor came to console him again.

‘Who knows what’s good or bad?’ said the farmer.

When the army passed through, conscripting men for the war, they passed over the farmer’s son because of his broken leg. When the foolish man came to congratulate the farmer that his son would be spared, again the farmer said, ‘Who knows what’s good or bad?’”

And so on!

And that’s pretty much like my book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy”. Who knows what’s good or bad?

In the book, the main character, Rachel, runs away from an unhappy marriage and discovers and experiences great sexual release in ways that surprise, delight and shock her – but which are not always socially acceptable. Hence the title of the book – Good Pussy Bad Pussy.

So yes… in this book, I wanted to explore how it would be… not to be bound by our social norms and the traditional programming of men and women in terms of who we are and what we’re allowed to do sexually.

Once I started to consider the matter, I found out that it’s a veritable zoo. So the book asks many questions. Questions like – what is Rachel, the heroine of the book, really experiencing? Is it love or abuse? Is it liberation or bondage? Is she really free or not? And who is making these choices for her? How much of all that happens to her in the book is based on social programming and negative social norms about sex? These are some of the questions the book poses through the dilemmas Rachel faces.

Once I let Rachel loose, she took on a life of her own. So I hope you’ll enjoy her ride/read as much as I have. In fact, exploring sex and all these dilemmas with Rachel was so exhilarating that she just kept on going once the book ended. So another Good Pussy Bad Pussy book was born. This new book, entitled “Good Pussy Bad Pussy in Captivity”, will be released by my publisher Bedroom Books in June.

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How are you holding the sexual experience?

Sex and the different levels of energy

Most everyone knows there are different levels of energy – whether or not a person has formulated this awareness consciously in his or her mind or put words to it.

Everyone can feel the difference between feeling angry or feeling loving. Everyone can feel the difference between feeling depressed or happy. Everyone can feel the difference between being confused and being clear. We all know that these are quite different and distinct feelings. And the energy of these different feelings feels quite different and distinct.

We also know that the energies of depression, fear or anxiety make us feel heavy, lonely and make us want to withdraw from life. While the energies of love, passion and enthusiasm make us feel open and happy and make us feel excited about life.

So we could say some energies make us feel good while others make us feel less good about ourselves and life.

So on a scale from lower (at the bottom of the list) to higher – we can generally categorize the energies like this:

High, good-feeling energy

Love / passion / enthusiasm / joy / happiness

Acceptance / seeing life for what it truly is

Intellectual understanding / rational thinking / clarity

Courage / willingness to participate in life

Anger / aggression / blaming others

Fear / anxiety / blaming self

Depression / blaming self

Guilt / shame / blaming self

Low, bad-feeling energy

When we frame things in this way, we can see that the lower energies make us feel less good about life and ourselves while the higher energies make us feel better about life and ourselves. So in this connection, isn’t it logical that the way in which we relate to sex depends on what energy level we are vibrating on because this will determine how we hold the sexual experience?

So it can be interesting to ask yourself – how am I holding the sexual experience? Am I holding it with the energy of love, joy and enthusiasm or am I holding it in an energy field of anger or fear or blame? Where am I (or someone I know) on the scale of energies when it comes to the sexual experience?

You can also look around and see how different segments of society hold the sexual experience. Some people and groups are in the shaming and blaming frequency, while others are in the anger-jealousy frequency. And some are further up the scale in the loving, joyous frequencies. It’s really pretty easy to assess where people are when you take the time to notice.

It’s an interesting experiment. Just take a step back and think about what level people are vibrating on in general. You will discover it’s pretty obvious. Then think about some of the people you know and you will see it right away. Some people are just complainers. It’s so obvious when you think about it and you know it immediately. Because complaining is a very special energy. You can also easily identify those people you know who are joyful, positive and appreciative. It’s easy to identify them because joy and appreciation feel quite different from anger, sadness or anxiety.

With this in mind, if we go back to the sexual experience, we can then see that people and their relationship to the sexual experience must automatically be affected and influenced by the vibrational frequency they are operating on. So yes, there are people who are sad and depressed and who are sad and depressed about life in general and their sexual experiences in particular. And some who are feeling shameful about their bodies and their experiences – sexual and otherwise. And there are some who are anxious and still others who are angry. And finally, there are those who are accepting and even joyful, passionate and loving when it comes to life in general and the sexual experience in particular. So it all makes perfect sense when you understand the general frequency levels people are vibrating on.

Which brings us back to our starting point: What about you and me? Well it’s obvious isn’t it! If we want to improve our sexual experience, it’s a good idea to get some good foreplay going and work on raising the level of our energy. Because it’s the level of our energy – in other words the frequency we are vibrating on – that is going to determine how the sexual experience is for each of us!

 

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