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Posts Tagged ‘romance’

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!

‘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 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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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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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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Paris on my mind… thinking about Paris… loving Paris… because…

It’s the City of Light, it’s the city of artists and writers, it has the most amazing history, it’s the birthplace of so many powerful and amazing ideas, works of art, books, philosophies, music, cinema. It’s a hotbed of creativity. It has the most amazing architecture, the most amazing boulevards, the most amazing buildings, the most amazing bridges, the most amazing neighborhoods. It has the most amazing hidden alleyways and neighborhoods and cafés and people – everywhere, yes everywhere. Paris also has the most amazing people, the most amazing women and men. The people of Paris are just amazing and Paris has the most amazing writers and philosophers. Just think about it, the list is so long and illustrious and wonderful that it takes my breath away. And yes, it’s just amazing! Amazing! Just think about Paris and its history and it boggles the mind. Because Paris quite simply has the most amazing people. And then there’s the language – French – which is the most amazing of languages – so beautiful and melodious and lovely to speak and listen to. And so many wonderful, beautiful people have spoke that lovely language throughout the ages and are still speaking it today. Oh French… yes, the language itself is so beautiful, poetic, melodious, lovely. BEAUTIFUL. So yes, everything about Paris is beautiful and lovely and wonderful and amazing and magical. And this is only a beginning, only the slightest sketch, the slightest mentioning, only the slightest glance at this immortal city – this City of Light… with its amazing energy and its amazing bridges and walkways and sidewalks and cafes and restaurants and bars and brothels and nightclubs and discotheques and theaters and museums and bookstores and bookstalls along the Seine and shops and boutiques and hotels and palaces and impressive buildings and open spaces…. and then there are those wondrous night lights, that dance of light and the fairies and goddesses and gods, all here, all dancing, all loving and blessing each and every one of us and the whole world with the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Place de la Concorde, Les Champs Elysees, the River Seine, the bridges, La Rive Gauche (the Left Bank), Notre Dame, Arc de Triomphe, Sacré-Cœur, Panthéon, the Sorbonne, the Latin Quarter, Montparnasse, Boulevard Saint-Germain, Boulevard Saint-Michel… and oh yes, there’s so much more… so, so much more…. and did I say… I love Paris….

 

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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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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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Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale is getting great reviews all over the place. 5 Stars on Amazon and Goodreads and on various book blogs. Here are some examples:

You will read this book in ONE sitting, and it will stay with you for days! Great writing and a complete, solid story!

“A deep, solid read that covers much territory. This story brings you sex, romance, abuse and plenty of real-life drama! A woman in an unhappy marriage who doesn’t always make the best decisions for herself, but still manages to turn out fine and happy and fulfilled. You will read this book in ONE sitting, and it will stay with you for days! Great writing and a complete, solid story!” says January Gray. 5 Stars on Amazon and her blog.

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Good Pussy Bad Pussy is a perfect example of sex as art and entertainment

“Good Pussy Bad Pussy was exciting and I love conflicted protagonists. I was rooting for Rachel the entire time. It was a great read and I love a happy ending.  You had me worried right up to the last page; but everything turned out okay. Good Pussy Bad Pussy is a perfect example of sex as art and entertainment” says Guy Hogan of The Pittburgh Flash Fiction Gazette

http://pittsburghflashfictiongazette.net/i-write-erotica-amy-aimee/

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New in-depth interview about Good Pussy Bad Pussy called:

I Write Erotica: Amy Aimee http://wp.me/p4l6rJ-aZI

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Good Pussy Bad Pussy is a “great freaking book”! 5 Stars

“This was a wildly created bunch of dysfunctional people too good to pass it up. This is how I felt: I felt like this was too real at times. I felt like I was sneaking a peak at Rachel’s diary. She was a strong woman. She went through so much in this book and I adored her more and more.
It’s not for the faint. It is loaded with drama, relationships, decision making and sexual abuse. I felt bad seeing the end. I think the author did a great service with her unique storytelling. Bravo!”

Says Renee Giraldy on Amazon, Goodread and on her blog fb.me/2DLZlbNlR

 

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