Posts Tagged ‘sex’

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.


Read Full Post »

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…

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »


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…

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 so fabulous! Abso-fucking-lutely fabulous! Because finally we’ve stopped the chatter and are totally present in this amazing NOW moment.

So… no wonder we’re all so 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????


Read Full Post »

When a manly voice artist contacted me and asked me if he could try his hand – or should I say his voice – on my book “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” – I thought: What – a man reading the innermost thoughts of a woman??? Could that work? But then on second thought – I thought: Well I’m not a reverse sexist and I am working for more sexual freedom and equality for all – so why not let a man give it a try? Man or woman, we all have thoughts and emotions relating to our sexuality and the situations our sexual drive and desires get us into!

So I said yes! And well, the result is lovely indeed – as you can hear if you have a listen. Because he has such an amazing, lovely, rich, full sexy voice. So just click here to hear him read the first 10 minutes of “Good Pussy Bad Pussy”:

He also interviewed me about “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” and Tonya  Kinzer posted my answers on her Naughty Readers Blog here: http://naughtyreaders.blogspot.dk/2015/02/a-aimee-stops-in-to-talk-about-big-o.html

When I asked him to tell me a little about himself, here’s what he said: “In my travels I have experienced everything from the incredible frozen tundra of Alaska to the warm, sunny beaches of St. Lucia. At every locale, my experiences with the women I came to know in these exotic spots revealed a little more to me about how to make a woman happy and keep her satisfied. Something they all would comment about was how they enjoyed my voice during pillow talk. Since then I have gained a lot of experience as a professional voice artist and now my wife, who loves it when I read erotica to her, urges me to share this (my pillow talk voice) with the world. In doing so, my main thrust is to enhance eroticism in the lives of adventurous lovers.”

All I can say is I’m so happy his wife has encouraged him to share his sexy pillow talk voice with the world!

Read Full Post »

In my book, “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale”, readers can follow the beautiful and naive Rachel in her dangerous attempt to be free, follow her heart and satisfy her pussy – all at the same time! From Amsterdam to the French Riviera to New York City – from her blond lover Stefan, to the aristocratic Albert, and mad doctor Howard, Rachel tastes the forbidden fruit – and likes it. That is until life takes a very surprising turn! And yet another…

BUT… it’s also really interesting to notice how most people frame this book and the work I am doing. Many are calling the book “erotica” or “erotic fiction” or “xxx-rated fiction” and well the interesting thing is I didn’t think of any of these things when I was writing “Good Pussy Bad Pussy”. I didn’t have any of these labels in my head. I just wrote a book about a woman exploring life and relationships and her sexuality because I find the subject fascinating and because I feel that our sexuality is just a normal part of our lives. So I didn’t put what I was writing into any special category.

“Good Pussy Bad Pussy is a perfect example of sex as art and entertainment!” says Guy Hogan of the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette. See his interview with me here: http://wp.me/p4l6rJ-aZI

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 not whether or not what I write is so-called “erotica” but why we separate sex like we do from the rest of our lives? I just read that Timothy Clark, curator at the British Museum Shunga exhibition, said in an interview about the museum’s latest exhibition of Japanese erotic art: “The division between art and obscene pornography is a Western concept. There was no sense in Japan that sex or sexual pleasure was sinful.”

So I think it’s about time we ask ourselves why there are so many taboos around something that is so natural, wonderful, joyful, amazing, and fun as sex is? What it is about our society and social programming that leads us to believe that there’s something “sinful”, “wrong”, “bad”, or “dirty” when it comes to something so fundamental and wonderful as sex and our sexual drive?

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.

 “I thought it was impossible to find an Erotica book with a strong story and solid characters until I read Good Pussy Bad Pussy,” says January Gray. See her review of the book here: http://bit.ly/1sv90OH


Read Full Post »

Here’s what reviewer TM Adams had to say about “Good Pussy Bad Pussy” on her blog For the Passion of Romance:

I’m always a little skeptical whenever I am to review an Erotica title and the same could certainly be said about Good Pussy Bad Pussy.

When I first started reading it I wasn’t sure that I would like it the book by the time that I finished it. Like with most Erotica titles it is important to keep an open mind not just as a reviewer but as a reader as well. By the time I finished the book I overly enjoyed it and was pleasantly surprised by the impressive writing flow of author Amy Aimee.

The message of the novel may not be reflected within the title itself but are in fact deeply present throughout the pages. The message is not something that society would tend to agree with nor would the idea be applauded had it not be a novel, but the message is something that we all are guilty of thinking about at least once in our lives and Rachel, the heroine is of no difference.

I wasn’t sure that upon meeting Rachel I was going to like her character. Rachel after all is a woman that has recently left her husband and her child behind in search of freedom, of life. I may not necessary agree with the decisions that Rachel made but the fact that she was brave enough to take such a plunge cannot be overlooked.

Within Rachel’s travels and her many lovers she soon discovers that life and love is not a matter of black and white. The standards set forth by an overage society matter little and it is the importance of who an individual’s inner soul truly is that truly matters. What I liked about most of the lovers that Rachel had was the fact that they all taught Rachel something about love and about life in the time that she spent with them.

This novel is a little deeper than most Erotica novels that I have read and I was quite pleased with the outcome. I really enjoyed how Aimee was able to set apart her own novel from that of the traits of typical Erotica novels. The character of Rachel is written with such depth that readers will laugh, cry and envy Rachel by the time that the book is finished.

Good Pussy Bad Pussy is not recommended for those that are not willing to keep open mind when reading novels. It is intended to be different and that is exactly what drew me into reviewing the title. The sensual scenes are Erotica though well written and I don’t think that any reader will be overly offended by the sexual content. Whether you are a reader with an open mind or perhaps those that tend to follow the aging standards one thing remains and that is the message of author Amy Aimee’s novel and I am greatly looking forward to reading more from Aimee in the future!


Read Full Post »

Sacchi Green reviews “Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale” on Erotica Revealed

Green writes: “I don’t quite know what to make of ‘Good Pussy Bad Pussy: Rachel’s Tale’. The title sounds like a lighthearted, sexy romp, and the first part is certainly sexy enough, but Rachel is foolish rather than lighthearted, and some of the situations she gets herself into are too grim to be considered romps.

This isn’t a bad book by any means. The writing is good and the central character is likeable enough. The sex is well written, although by the second half of the book there’s very little enjoyment involved.

Rachel, an American, is bored with her husband in Amsterdam, so she leaves him (and her four year old son) and runs off with blond, buff Stefan to Nice, convincing herself that “it was true love, great passion, high romance.” Life on the Riviera seems to be everything she could want, and so does the sex with Stefan. Sex with Stefan’s boss is even better. But sex with the boss’s brutish business associate is not, and Rachel feels guilty that she comes to orgasm even with someone who repels her. (She never seems to realize how lucky she is that all the men she fucks, even the brute, are skilled at giving women oral sex.)….”

To read the full review, click here: http://www.eroticarevealed.com/current_reviews.php?panel_id=1

Read Full Post »

“Good Pussy Bad Pussy – Rachel’s Tale” is now available on Kindle for just £0.99! This special offer is only for one month! Let’s spread the love…

Check it out here:


Read Full Post »

Albert’s house on Cap Ferrat was unbelievable, perched overlooking the Mediterranean. It turned out he wasn’t just rich, he was fabulously wealthy. A house like his on Cap Ferrat meant he was very well established indeed.

We walked in through a polished wooden entrance gate onto a meticulously groomed, Zen style lawn surrounded by swaying palm trees set in round stone beds. An amazing stone terrace sloped and curved down to a swimming pool. Well-dressed men and women were scattered around the pool talking in small groups. Two striking looking women were swimming and laughing in the clear blue pool while several men were standing by, watching them, making jokes and drinking champagne. Discreet white-jacketed waiters moved quietly from group to group with drinks and hors d’oeuvres.  I didn’t see Albert anywhere. Stefan nodded at several of the people but seemed to be looking for someone special. He led me towards a small group of people sitting on stunningly modern white garden chairs.

“Ah, there is Michelle, I need to talk to her for a minute,” Stefan said.

Two men got up and came towards us.

“So this is Rachel,” said one.

“Rachel, this is Joey and Carl, they were up at our hotel this afternoon. You missed them, remember?” he smiled. “Carl, entertain Rachel for a few minutes will you? I need to talk to Michelle.”

“With pleasure.”

Joey was a dark, handsome North African. Carl was tall and thin with a warm smile and gay funny eyes.

Stefan left us for a beautiful French girl with short black hair. He whispered something in her ear and she stood up, took his hand, and they walked away.

Carl grinned, “Don’t worry Rachel, Michelle just got back from Beirut. Stefan just wants to talk to her about it.”

“What’s it all about?” I asked.

“Come, let’s go over there,” Joey pointed to a cool shady spot under some old trees.

“The first thing you must learn when you join Albert’s family,” said Carl leaning against one of the trees, “is never ask questions!” He looked at me with impish smiling eyes. Was he serious?

“Oh come on Carl, don’t scare her!” Joey broke in. Was he laughing too? “Now tell me, where are on earth did Stefan find you?”

“I met Stefan at Zandvoort, a beach just outside in Amsterdam.”

“Amsterdam!” they both exclaimed.

“Yes, what’s so strange about that?”

“But you can’t be Dutch,” Joey cried, “you’re almost as dark as I am!”

“I’m American.”

“Oh… so what were you doing in Amsterdam? Just visiting?”

“Oh no, I’ve lived there for almost seven years now.”

“Seven years? How can you stand it?” cried Joey.

“It’s not so bad,” I laughed, “my husband is Dutch.”

“Your husband??”

“Yes, and Amsterdam is a beautiful city you know.”

“Well,” said Joey, “I’ve never been there so I really don’t know. I’m from Algeria but two of my brothers lived and worked in Amsterdam. Both of them married Dutch women but Armand, the younger one, came home quickly.”

I had to laugh at the serious expression on Joey’s face.

“There’s nothing funny about the stories they told,” he continued. “What is it with the women up north? Armand’s wife wanted to work, you know, and didn’t want to have children. What kind of a woman is that? And when he insisted, she left him. He is a hard worker and he just wanted to take care of her so she wouldn’t have to work. But she wanted to be independent. Is that the way women are up there?”

“Well yes,” I replied smiling, “most women in The Netherlands work.”

“But why? What do they want? You think they look so beautiful… all nice and blond, but when they start to talk and you hear what they are thinking… anyway that’s what my brother said. And he said they’re all like that. My older brother Ali has two children with his Dutch wife and she won’t let him take his children to Algeria to visit our old mother because she is afraid he will kidnap his own children and never go back to The Netherlands again. And my old mother is too weak to visit them.”

“I’m sorry to hear that but the truth is women are independent in northern Europe and have their own money and can decide things for themselves.”

“But is it necessary?” he asked. “I mean if a woman has a good man, why should she want those things? A woman’s place is at home. She should be happy to give her husband children. That’s how it is where I come from.”

How could I tell him we grew up in different worlds?

“Things are different in northern Europe and men and women are brought up in another way. We are taught that men and women are equal and should have equal opportunities to live the life they choose. So men and women act much more alike and they think and work together. And when women are independent, they usually don’t have so many children. It’s not their only priority anymore. So yes, it’s very different.”

“But how can we have a good life without the difference between men and women? Can you tell me that?”

When I didn’t reply, he continued, “And what about you Rachel? Are you like that too?”

“Well I have a son if that’s what you mean. And I stayed home and took care of him for quite a while, but I got bored and well here I am… I ran off from my husband too.”

Joey looked shocked.

“Why did you leave him? Was this Dutch husband of yours such a bad guy?”

“Oh no, he was an ok guy.”

“I’m sure he was,” a voice said behind me. I felt hands on my shoulders and I knew from the electric shock running through my body that it was Albert.

“Let’s not upset our guests Joey,” Albert said. “When will you learn that the whole world doesn’t necessarily think like you and your brothers?” He smiled.

“Pardon,” said Joey and bowed before me.

“Come,” Albert said to me, “Let me show you my house.”

I looked around for Stefan, but he was nowhere in sight.


On the way up to Albert’s house, we met a big, bear-like man who seemed rather flustered. He spoke to Albert in German, excitedly. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of a sentence and stared at me. His hand moved toward my shoulder.

“Rachel, this is Felix Fischer from Hamburg. I am doing a little business with him. Would you be kind enough to give him your hand? He doesn’t speak English but he seems to be quite taken by you.”

I shook hands with Mr. Fischer. Then Albert and I walked into the house.

After showing me around the most amazing house, he took me downstairs to his study. It was in the lower corner of the house and because of the slope of the garden, the huge picture windows were above ground looking out over the sea. The view was breathtaking. His long desk faced the windows so he could look out while he worked. I liked that. Further back in the room there was a low couch and I imagined him sleeping there at times.

“Will you drink something?” he motioned towards the couch.

“No thank you. The champagne by the pool on an empty stomach was more than enough for me,” I laughed uneasily.

Being suddenly alone with Albert made me tremble all over. I hadn’t forgotten the intensity of our first meeting and the wave of liquid desire he had awakened in me. I wanted to act nonchalant and tried to, but couldn’t. There was just something about the man that drew me to him; he exuded this strange, magnetic power. He came over to me, standing as I was in the middle of the room, and laid his hands on my bare shoulders. I was sure he felt me trembling. In the background, Music for Zen Meditation by Tony Scott played softly.

“Come my dear, don’t be so serious,” he said, brushing my hair away from my face, “it’s not good for you.”

”What do you mean?” I replied, feeling unsure of myself.

“You’re wearing yourself out for no good reason.”

“Really… I’m not sure I understand.”

“Oh yes you do… you are thinking and worrying all the time and it’s exhausting you. Always trying to figure things out, trying to deduct what’s going on, speculating, worrying. You’re probably worrying about your son right now, tormenting yourself because you ran off to have your little fling with Stefan.”

“Well what’s wrong with that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with watching what’s going on, but you do more than that. You keep turning things over and over in your mind until you wear yourself out instead of enjoying the present moment. Come and sit down on the couch with me, I want to tell you something.”

We sat down.

“Many years ago I spent some years in the Far East and one of the most important things I learned there was that if you want to do anything, enjoy anything, accomplish anything, achieve anything, you have to focus your energy on that one thing and forget everything else that is going on around you. You have to disregard everything else and focus your attention at whatever it is you’re going to do – and then do it. I know it sounds very simple, but it’s really very difficult to do. Most people don’t succeed in life because they scatter their energy too much. Instead of focusing on the task at hand and on the present moment, they waste their energy worrying about what happened yesterday or what’s going to happen tomorrow. So they’re rarely really present and focused in the moment. And as a result, they don’t succeed at what they’re trying to do and they don’t enjoy the present moment for what it is.”

I wondered why he was telling me this. Why me?

He went on.

“In some traditional Eastern disciplines, they teach the idea that you have to divide your mind up into compartments. One compartment for this situation and another compartment for that situation. When you’re not actually doing something about a situation or problem, you simply put it in its compartment and forget about it until the appropriate time. Otherwise you are just wasting your energy and exhausting your nervous system. What can you do about your son right now? Nothing, right? So why worry about him? You are just wasting your energy. Save it until you can actually do something about it. Otherwise it’s exhausting… what I’m trying to tell you sweet Rachel… is to relax a little… you can just let yourself go… really.” He smiled reassuringly.

“Look,” he continued, “I have become a very successful businessman. Do you know why?”

“Sure, because you’re smart.”

“Well it’s not just that,” he smiled, “It’s also because – fortunately for me – I’ve learned how to focus my attention and my energy. That’s the real secret of my success.”

“Albert, why are you telling me all this?”

He gazed into space.

“I should have met you before you married and had a son.”

“What do they have to do with it, now that I’ve left them?”

“You’ll go back to them and probably soon… but until you do…” he moved closer to me, “let’s see what happens…”

He kissed me on the mouth while his hand moved up my leg. Suddenly the door to his office swung open. It was Stefan. He looked angry seeing me with Albert.

“I was looking for Rachel,” was all he said.

Albert stood up.

They started talking in German.  It didn’t sound exactly friendly. I heard my name and stood up, getting ready to go with Stefan.

Albert turned and motioned me to sit down. “It seems Stefan forgot something important he must attend to.”

Stefan slammed the door and left without looking at me.

Albert laughed and locked the door.

“Well Rachel, now you know how Stefan feels about you.”

“I’d really like to go with Stefan,” I said out of loyalty to Stefan, even though I wasn’t really sure I wanted to go. The words just came out.

And when Albert didn’t reply, I blurted out. “Why are you doing this Albert? Can’t you see I want to be with Stefan?”

I started towards the door.

“Not so fast Rachel, not so fast. There’s something I forgot to tell you.”

His words made me shiver.


“Sit down and I will tell you.”

He had some power I did not understand.

When I just stood there, he came and took my hand and led me over to the couch.

“Now sit down,” he said.

I sat down. He sat down besides me.

“You probably don’t realize it my dear, but I do a considerable amount of business in the Middle East. The details won’t interest you. But Stefan interests you I’ve noticed and Stefan is a part of my operation. Right now I am looking for a replacement for Ben Ari who was head of my Beirut office until he was killed by a suicide bomb in Baghdad 14 days ago while there on business. Ben was not a careless man but Iraq as you know is not the safest place in the world. And our business involves certain risks….” He paused. “I was thinking of sending Stefan to Beirut as his replacement but he asked to stay here at the moment which I gather is because of you.”

He fingered my hair.

“Now Rachel, do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Ruthless bastard,” I muttered under my breath, eyes flashing.

“Come, come my dear,” he laughed, “it can’t be all that bad.”

I felt hot tears of frustration in my eyes as he went on toying with me.

“I like a woman with spirit,” he said, lifting my chin and gazing at me with those piercing eyes of his.

He was silent for a moment, watching me pout; then he went on. “Yes it’s true,” he continued, “you will have to make love to me in exactly the way I desire… which quite frankly I am sure you will enjoy… but other than that and maybe one or two other small requests I may have for you in the future, you can rest assured that Stefan is yours for as long as you care to enjoy him. So there is really nothing to be upset about. After all, my dear, am I not keeping you both here on the Riviera in the very best of style?”

He walked over to the windows and drew the curtains.

“Now stand up and take off your clothes.”

I stood up and looked at him.

“Do you really want me that much?”

“Isn’t that obvious, Rachel?”

“But why, I just don’t see why? You already have everything and every woman at this party today is more beautiful than I will ever be and they’re all waiting in line to have you… so why me?”

He did not let me continue and he did not answer. He pulled me towards him. I stopped struggling and let him undress me until I stood quite naked before him. I felt no shame though I knew my body was not as perfect as many he had seen. His desire for me made me extraordinarily beautiful, not only in his eyes, but in mine as well. He really did want me.  But why? Was I that different? He moved his hands over my body and then led me back over to the couch where he lay me down and spread my legs. He still had all his clothes on and I was completely naked.

He sat down next to me and gently ran his hands up and down my thighs, caressing me slowly. He was in no rush. Slowly, he let his hands lightly trace the curving lines of my body. It was as if he’d sent an electrical current through me… and I felt myself quivering at the slow sensuality of his masterful touch. Then he bent forward, tasting my pussy and caressing me again as he had done that first night with his exquisite tongue. Even if I had wanted to tense up, I simply couldn’t. I might have had my pride, but my pussy had none. And besides, she was too far gone and he was far too insistent. There was just something about him that was far too knowledgeable and far too into me for me to fathom. It seemed he understood my body far better than I did and because of this knowingness, I knew he could and would wait. Wait for me until I was good and ready for him. And wait he did, because he could. He had that power, that magic; he could linger and linger… until he knew by my wetness and the swelling, swaying movement of my hips that I wanted him as much as he wanted me. Only then did he stop, get up and begin to undress. Because by then he knew I had forgotten every protest and would wait for him no matter what. And when he came to me, naked and ready, I surrendered easily and followed him as he took me with sure strides to that brilliant destination only he knew of. And there we lingered, crying out and coming powerfully and magically together.

Then he lay quiet inside me for a long time. And strange as it may seem considering the short time I had known him, in that amazing stillness I found myself clinging to him and loving him with all my heart.

Such was the intensity of his focus that he had made me his.

I didn’t know how; but I knew it was true.

And in that moment, I wanted to be his, desperately and now that it was done, now that he had possessed me so thoroughly and completely, I took pleasure in it and was satisfied. And felt sure that he knew I wanted to be possessed in exactly the way in which he had possessed me.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »