Clare London's Blog, page 134
January 6, 2011
SOLDIERS, SETTING AND SWEETS!
Welcome today to
![[info]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380442897i/1319734.gif)
sandra_lindsey
, aspiring writer, lover of research, and bearer of chocolate treats!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Clare first invited us to join her in celebrating her birthday month, I thought "Yay! Sounds a great idea!" and picked a date rather at random. A day or so later I realised I was going to have to think up a topic... uh, oh. The obvious one, given the date I picked, would have been Twelfth Night (or Epiphany), but I realised after a few minutes that I simply don't know enough... Whilst searching for other ideas, 'my boys' kept popping into my head, having snowball fights and suchlike, and generally making themselves wet and cold and needing to snuggle up together in front of a fire. "Great!" I thought.
Would have been great if they'd been at all co-operative. Bloody Students! ;-)
As you'll have probably realised, from the way you went "huh? Who's this?", I'm not a published writer. Doesn't stop me having a bash at getting things down on paper. There are several things which conspire against this though...
* like most of you, I have so many things going on in my life that it can be a bit of a squash fitting them all in, and often I have to prioritise, which means something loses out;
* in the past I've been fairly weak at the middle part of stories – I know where the characters start, I know where they finish, and I know that some stuff happens to them in between, but the pacing of that 'stuff', and working out how much detail to include, is something I've been working on;
* I'm a research-whore. One of the most fatal things I can do is find a relevant book just as I'm about to start actually writing the story... Again, I'm working on this (mostly by banning myself from reading about the era I'm writing about).
Of course, the best research comes not from books but from first-hand experience. I've come to the realisation this year that I'm unlikely ever to set a story outside the UK (with the exception of Age of Sail, and use of a holiday setting). I'd probably struggle even to set something in Scotland – or at least to do so convincingly.
I know this isn't true for all writers, but for me it adds an extra dimension to everyday life. My novel-in-progress is set in mid-Wales (where I live), in the early 19th century and features a French prisoner-of-war adapting to life on a Welsh hill farm. Not actually as far fetched an idea as you might think – there were French prisoners-of-war held in our local town during this period (from the fall of Badajos in 1812 until the end of the Napoleonic wars in 1815), and one of them caused quite a stir by courting the rector's daughter but proved himself a gentleman by returning after the war to marry her! The advantage I find in using this setting (thank you, muse, for bringing me the idea!) is that almost everything I notice or learn about my local area helps me build a more believable background to the story – and when you open your eyes, there's an awful lot to see.
Now to figure out what the characters ought to be doing in between "meeting" and "declaring undying love". Oops, just gave away the end of my story!
***
Sandra would like to say that she's a writer, but that's not entirely true: there's the day job, gardening, sweeties (at Tiggothy's Kitchen - shipping available to any UK address!), household cooking, line dancing, being-a-pillar-of-the-community (well, on the PCC and Community Hall Committee at least), and paying attention to her husband (and more distant family members) to consider as well. So maybe it's more accurate to say she's a woman with a head full of characters, all demanding she listen to their stories...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!
Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A FREE short from me, revisiting Nic and Aidan from Sparks Fly.
JAN 01: Delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.
JAN 02: Why I want to be a Bond villain! by
chrissymunder
.
JAN 03: The world of inspiration between 'historical' and 'contemporary' with
stevie_carroll
.
JAN 04: Some fascinating Swedish proverbs rom
1more_sickpuppy
.
JAN 05: A round-up of a great year just gone from
angelasstone
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
sandra_lindsey
, aspiring writer, lover of research, and bearer of chocolate treats!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Clare first invited us to join her in celebrating her birthday month, I thought "Yay! Sounds a great idea!" and picked a date rather at random. A day or so later I realised I was going to have to think up a topic... uh, oh. The obvious one, given the date I picked, would have been Twelfth Night (or Epiphany), but I realised after a few minutes that I simply don't know enough... Whilst searching for other ideas, 'my boys' kept popping into my head, having snowball fights and suchlike, and generally making themselves wet and cold and needing to snuggle up together in front of a fire. "Great!" I thought.
Would have been great if they'd been at all co-operative. Bloody Students! ;-)
As you'll have probably realised, from the way you went "huh? Who's this?", I'm not a published writer. Doesn't stop me having a bash at getting things down on paper. There are several things which conspire against this though...
* like most of you, I have so many things going on in my life that it can be a bit of a squash fitting them all in, and often I have to prioritise, which means something loses out;
* in the past I've been fairly weak at the middle part of stories – I know where the characters start, I know where they finish, and I know that some stuff happens to them in between, but the pacing of that 'stuff', and working out how much detail to include, is something I've been working on;
* I'm a research-whore. One of the most fatal things I can do is find a relevant book just as I'm about to start actually writing the story... Again, I'm working on this (mostly by banning myself from reading about the era I'm writing about).
Of course, the best research comes not from books but from first-hand experience. I've come to the realisation this year that I'm unlikely ever to set a story outside the UK (with the exception of Age of Sail, and use of a holiday setting). I'd probably struggle even to set something in Scotland – or at least to do so convincingly.
I know this isn't true for all writers, but for me it adds an extra dimension to everyday life. My novel-in-progress is set in mid-Wales (where I live), in the early 19th century and features a French prisoner-of-war adapting to life on a Welsh hill farm. Not actually as far fetched an idea as you might think – there were French prisoners-of-war held in our local town during this period (from the fall of Badajos in 1812 until the end of the Napoleonic wars in 1815), and one of them caused quite a stir by courting the rector's daughter but proved himself a gentleman by returning after the war to marry her! The advantage I find in using this setting (thank you, muse, for bringing me the idea!) is that almost everything I notice or learn about my local area helps me build a more believable background to the story – and when you open your eyes, there's an awful lot to see.
Now to figure out what the characters ought to be doing in between "meeting" and "declaring undying love". Oops, just gave away the end of my story!
***
Sandra would like to say that she's a writer, but that's not entirely true: there's the day job, gardening, sweeties (at Tiggothy's Kitchen - shipping available to any UK address!), household cooking, line dancing, being-a-pillar-of-the-community (well, on the PCC and Community Hall Committee at least), and paying attention to her husband (and more distant family members) to consider as well. So maybe it's more accurate to say she's a woman with a head full of characters, all demanding she listen to their stories...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A FREE short from me, revisiting Nic and Aidan from Sparks Fly.
JAN 01: Delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.JAN 02: Why I want to be a Bond villain! by
chrissymunder
.JAN 03: The world of inspiration between 'historical' and 'contemporary' with
stevie_carroll
.JAN 04: Some fascinating Swedish proverbs rom
1more_sickpuppy
.JAN 05: A round-up of a great year just gone from
angelasstone
.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
January 5, 2011
A YEAR IN THE LIFE...
Welcome today to
angelasstone
, an author and blogger who has her first publication coming out in 2011 and some fiction to share with us (NOTE: NC17).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blurb: Angela is a twenty something nurse and writer living in Central Canada. She says that she literally grew up "around a kitchen table". Food, friends, family and good times all played a huge part in her childhood. She has been writing for as long as she can remember (if you ask very nicely she might even share her very first story with you). She is a huge fan of the classic Boy-meets-Girl Boy romance and loves to read anything she can get her hands on. Angela enjoys created characters that readers can fall in-love with and ones they want to read again and again!
She loves hearing from her readers you can e-mail her anytime at: contact.angelastone@gmail.com or visit her
Blog: http://angelasstone.livejournal.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/angelasstone
A year in the life...
A year, a great big entire year has passed since Clare last opened her blog to me and allowed me to post and introduce you to me and my stories.
Wow what a year it's been.
A year ago I was sitting in a tiny apartment in northern New Brunswick (Canada!) struggling to write my blog post for her. The truth is I was struggling in all aspects of my life. Trying to finish school, and move and change my whole life. Trying to recover after an abusive relationship and trying to move on.
A year later things are so different. I've finished university. With flying colours despite the doubts that I couldn't do it. I now have a Degree in nursing as well as I'm now a Registered Nurse. I have a dream job working for a visiting agency. I live in a large(ish) city with my family, a new boyfriend and spent time traveling around the world and have been writing like crazy!
AND!!!
My first Novel is due to come out from Phaze Books in May 2011.
Sometimes It's Fate is a Contemporary M/M romance set in Small-town Canada. The blurb is below:
Jason McCarthy is gay. He's also a police officer living in a small minded northern New Brunswick town where being gay could spell the end of his career. When an impending snowstorm threatens to strand his best friend and policing partner, David, Jason offers up his spare room for the night. A move that reveals Jason's secret and changed their friendship and their lives forever.
David Richard isn't gay at least he doesn't think he is. He knows he loves his best friend, and he admits to feelings that had started after a tragic accident almost a year before. David acts on these feelings but it doesn't go well. Leaving both men alone and hurt. When David's kids are abandoned by their mother, Jason doesn't think twice about stepping in and rescuing them. The move brings David and Jason back together but Jason's past rears its ugly head and they both have to make difficult decisions that sometimes are best left up to fate.
Wow the novel is getting ready to start the Editing process soon (I hope anyway!!). I don't have a cover-YET! But as soon as I do I'll give it to Clare to stick up here :)! I'm thrilled that my first real novel has gotten picked up. I'm now working on the sequel "Boots on the Ground" which focuses on Jason and a new character Ash McCarty. It's totally written (In my head anyway) and now I'm working on getting it all out on "paper" (aka a MS word document!!). After that I have a third novel already a few scenes written for. Plus a spin off for Ash and one for Craig who is a minor character with a major impact on Jason and David in the first novel. I also have an Idea swirling for a Het novel (No I promise I'm not sick) featuring a female character that you meet in Boots on the Ground. Yeah this will end up being a huge universe but I have so many stories for these characters!!
I've also got half a dozen other novels half written. I'm finding I'm not the kind of author that can solely focus on one novel finish it and move onto the next. I tend to write 4 or 5 novels at once, then when I get to a certain point in them I focus and finish several in quick succession. Different from most but it's what works for me right??
I also have a large range of areas I write. From a sweet a fluffy romance to hard-core kink. To a Happily Never After to historical fiction. I tend to have a few common threads. Such as if my characters have a dog it's always a Basset Hound.
I've also discovered I'm a series type writer. It's really hard for me to write just ONE novel featuring the characters. One series I'm working on which is fluffy romance I'm thinking of calling it the "Professions series" as so far the books are titled "The Teacher and the Cop", "The Doctor and the Builder" and "The Model and the Lawyer".
The other series I'm working on is hard-core kink/ BDSM. One that is over 50% complete is titled "The Handballers Association." Yes it's about what you think it is about. I have another one I'm working on that isn't titled yet but has some of the same characters. I often worry I push too many boundaries in my novels. Use too many extremes.
***
So! I wrote this little bit of fiction a while ago. It's titled "Explorations" and features a favourite kink of mine...
Title: Explorations
Author: Angela S. Stone
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M/M, Double Penetration.
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, event or locales is entirely coincidental.
The note on the fridge told him that his PA, Dylan, wasn't in for the day, which was perfect; no interruptions from work. Brett started coffee for himself and tea for Travis. It was Sunday, finally, and he had a rare day off from his engineering firm which he ran from home; his partner Travis was off for the weekend from his law practice. The coffee was almost done when Travis wandered into kitchen, naked. Brett grabbed him and pushed him against the counter.
Brett sunk to his knees. His mouth roamed over his partner before he swallowed his hard, un-cut prick. Travis groaned and his hands gripped Brett's hair as Brett sucked and rolled his foreskin in his mouth. Brett's hands cupped Travis' sack, rolling the sensitive skin. He was rewarded with a throaty groan. Brett pulled back and sucked on his fingers, getting them nice and wet, then went back to working Travis over with his mouth, his fingers brushing against Travis's entrance. When Travis nodded absently, giving his partner permission, Brett slid his fingers inside of him with only a hint of resistance, making Travis growl loudly and thrust against him.
"Brett." Travis tugged on his hair. Brett's response was to swallow him deep, his fingers searching for his sweet spot. The sharp intake of breath told Brett that he had found it. "Brett," Travis said more urgently. Brett swallowed around his partner, pressing into his sweet spot, causing Travis to moan, his body contracting as hot streams of liquid shot down Brett's throat. Brett swallowed greedily, enjoying the taste of his lover, then pulled off grinning.
Travis leaned back and laughed, nodding his head towards the door. It was only then Brett realized that Travis had been trying to tell him someone else was in the kitchen. He turned around to find Dylan staring open mouthed at the two of them, his trousers doing nothing to hide the obvious erection that had formed.
"I… Sorry," Dylan mumbled. He dropped the bags he had in his hands onto the kitchen floor and fled back into the hall. The main door didn't open again, so Brett assumed Dylan was in the office at the front of the maisonette.
"Well, that was interesting," Travis commented as he pulled Brett up off of the floor. He kissed the older man soundly.
"I thought he was straight," Brett replied. Dylan had never verbally or otherwise expressed any interest in the male gender. Brett had always assumed that although currently single, he was chasing after females on the nights that he wasn't working. Those nights seemed to be happening less and less as Brett became busier. Brett gave up his partnership in a large firm downtown to work from home, to relax for his last fifteen years or so before his retirement. Dylan was a critical part of that plan, from organizing meetings, to doing the shopping and even reminding Brett to eat. Travis's work meant that he travelled a lot, so it was often just Brett and their two Bassett Hounds rattling around the flat when he was gone.
Travis kissed Brett again, "So did I, maybe you should go talk to him," he suggested. Then he glanced down, "Maybe you should get dressed first," he added, squeezing Brett's hard-on through the pair of tight boxer briefs.
"Yeah." Brett followed Travis upstairs; he quickly dressed in a pair of pj pants and shirt before he went back into the kitchen, where he poured two mugs of coffee and added the appropriate amount of milk and sugar to each. He went out into the hallway and knocked on the door to the office.
It pushed open. Dylan was sitting, staring at a blank computer screen. "Dylan?"
He looked up at Brett and flushed. "Brett, I…"
"It's ok," Brett interrupted his apology, handing him the mug of coffee. Dylan was sitting back in his desk chair and Brett perched himself on the corner of the desk, careful not to knock over any of the neat piles of papers that covered the surface.
Dylan accepted the mug. "Still, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to watch, it was just…" He flushed ever darker.
"Intriguing? Interesting? A turn on? All of the above?" Brett suggested.
Dylan nodded. "I'm not... I just…" he said haltingly, "I see what you and Travis have. You are so lucky. Most people, gay or straight, don't ever find that."
"I'm lucky Travis puts up with me."
Dylan smiled.
"I keep wondering if I'm missing out on something," he told Brett, fiddling with the handle of his coffee mug, "Like what if there is the perfect guy out there for me instead of a girl?"
"Are you gay?" Brett asked bluntly.
Dylan was taken back, but then slowly shook his head no. "Just… Open - willing to experience, I think." He stopped, then said, "Wanting to experience, to make sure I'm not missing out on anything."
Brett nodded and left the conversation at that.
That had all taken place three weeks ago; in the meantime, Travis had cornered Dylan and talked to him as well.
Travis was better at that sort of thing and he had gotten far more information than Brett ever could. Dylan wanted to have sex. More specifically, he wanted to have sex with Brett and Travis. Dylan had confessed that he trusted Brett and Travis implicitly and he knew that they would make his first time special. Brett was rather chuffed that Dylan trusted him, trusted them, enough to have that conversation, even if it was only hypothetical.
There were so many more elements to having a threesome than just adding in a third person. First they had to make sure that they were ok, secure in their relationship. And they were. It was shocking to admit, but it was the first time that they had even considered engaging in a threesome. They had done partner switches before with another lawyer from Travis's firm, but this was the first time there was a third person for them to focus all of their attention on.
Brett was excited by the prospect, so much so that Travis took him over the back of the couch just minutes before Dylan was due to arrive. It was a quick, hard fuck to get the need out of their systems so that they could focus on Dylan when he arrived. He was due any moment. Brett had made dinner; if it was anything more complicated than fish sticks out of a box, Travis was rather hopeless - so the plan was dinner and wine and to see where it led them.
The door bell sounded and two dogs looked up from the chairs, where they had been dozing. They both howled loudly, their short legs scrabbling to gain footing on the hardwood floors as they ran to the door. Brett answered it, holding the dogs back with his foot.
"Did you forget your keys?" he asked, pulling the dogs back to allow Dylan to enter into the front hall. They both barked loudly. "Sally! Horton!" Brett scolded. Dylan reached down and petted both of them; satisfied that it was someone they knew, they both disappeared back into the flat, probably looking for treats from Travis.
"Just felt right to ring the doorbell," Dylan replied with a smile. Brett nodded in understanding; Dylan wanted to be accepted into the house as a friend and not as an employee. That has been the biggest hang-up for them. Dylan, although a friend, was still an employee.
The partner switches they had done had always involved Brett sleeping with Travis's co-worker, and his partner sleeping with Travis. It had taken a lot of conversation on all of their parts before they felt comfortable to just take it however it came. Right now, Dylan was their friend before anything else and no matter what happened, they were all mature enough to honour that fact.
Brett invited him into the living room. Travis called from the kitchen, asking if they wanted wine; they did. Brett appeared a few moments later carrying three glasses and kicked the dogs off the chairs. They growled before settling on the bed in front of the gas fireplace. Brett took the chair, allowing Dylan and Travis to take the couch.
Dylan was very attractive, and if Brett was totally honest with himself that was part of the reason he hired him. He had floppy brown hair, long enough to run your fingers through, and brilliant green eyes. He was about six feet tall and was in excellent shape. Dylan was twelve years younger than Brett and ten years younger than Travis. Not that that mattered, though; Brett always had a thing for younger men.
Travis handed Brett a glass before dropping himself next to Dylan on the couch. Dylan accepted the glass and proceeded to all but chug the wine. Travis stopped him and took the almost empty glass from him, setting it on the coffee table. "If you can't do this mostly sober, we're not going to do this at all."
"I know. I'm just…" He stopped and licked his lips.
"Nervous?" Travis supplied. Dylan nodded. Travis reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. "That's ok. I'd be a bit worried if you weren't nervous. Just know that we'll take this slow - at your speed - and we'll only go as far as you want."
Dylan smiled a small smile. God, Travis was so good at this, gently loving - caring. This isn't about us doing a wham bam thank you ma'am. This is a slow, thorough romp that hopefully will leave all three men thoroughly satisfied. "Can I ask a question?" Dylan said nervously.
"Of course," Travis replied.
Dylan glanced nervously from Brett back to Travis and hesitantly asked, "Can I kiss you?"
The smallest smirk formed at the corner of Travis' mouth, "Of course." Dylan looked back at Brett for permission. Brett gave a small nod of his head. Dylan tucked one leg up and turned to face Travis. He leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Travis'. Travis waited as Dylan slowly opened his mouth, inviting him in for a much deeper kiss. Travis' hand went to Dylan's shoulder, pulling him in just a bit tighter. Dylan made a soft noise; his arms went around Travis, pulling him very close. Travis went willingly, allowing Dylan to explore his body at his own pace.
Travis' hands automatically went to stroke Dylan through his trousers; the younger man jumped back and blushed. "Sorry," he mumbled, flushing slightly.
"It's alright." Travis ran a knuckle down the side of Dylan's face. Dylan smiled and leaned in, capturing Travis' lips again for a kiss before he pulled away. Dylan looked over his shoulder at Brett and raised an eyebrow. His invitation was clear. Travis shifted over as did Dylan, making room for Brett on the couch. Dylan was in the middle as Brett settled next to him. He leaned down and captured Dylan's lips. Dylan tasted like wine and a bit like Travis, and something else; something new, something exciting. Dylan hesitantly ran his fingers over Brett's chest; he groaned as they ghosted over his nipples.
Dylan tugged the polo shirt from the waistband of Brett's jeans; his hand slid underneath, trailing upwards. He pinched Brett's nipples, which caused Brett to gasp loudly. Dylan jumped back as though he had been bitten. "I… sorry, did I hurt you?" A quick glance at Travis showed Brett the humour in his eyes.
"No you didn't," Brett assured him. "It was quiet nice."
Travis let out a low and husky laugh. "Brett likes it a bit rougher at times," he told Dylan, kissing his neck. "Don't worry. Just do what feels right."
Dylan swallowed, nodding his head. Travis leaned in and captured Dylan's lips; he closed his eyes, drawing Dylan further into the kiss, his arms around the younger man, encouraging him to touch and to feel. Brett pressed against Dylan's back, his hands threaded under Dylan's shirt. He pulled it off and tossed it aside. Dylan broke the kiss and turned to face Brett. Travis smiled; his fingers rubbed against Dylan's nipples as he and Brett hungrily kissed. Dylan growled and fell back so that he was leaning against the cushions of the couch; Brett continued to kiss him and Travis's mouth replaced his fingers as he trailed lower.
Dylan's hands tugged at Brett's shirt and he tossed it off. Brett sat back for a moment and Dylan smirked, enjoying his sculpted body and his obvious attraction, pressed against Dylan's thigh. Dylan tugged on Travis' shirt. He sat up and pulled it off. Dylan grinned and leaned forward, taking one of Travis' nipples into his mouth; Travis groaned and his fingers snaked through Dylan's long hair.
Brett caught his partner's eye and they exchanged a nod, having a complete conversation without uttering a word.
"Dylan," Brett said gently, pulling him away from Travis and towards him. His lips were dark and puffy, his eyes slightly out of focus and his breath coming in small spurts. Brett couldn't resist kissing him before he said, "Why don't we move this to the bedroom?"
Dylan paused and stuttered, "What about dinner?"
Travis grinned. "What about dinner?"
"Shouldn't we…" Dylan trailed off and glanced towards the kitchen.
"We don't have to do anything," Brett growled before kissing Dylan again.
"Let's go to the bedroom," Travis told him as he gracefully slid off of the couch, pulling Dylan along.
"I'll be right there." Brett dashed into the kitchen and turned the roast down. It would keep until later.
The dogs were lying outside the bedroom door; they both looked up at Brett and "humphed" softly before laying back down and going to sleep. Brett stepped over them and let himself into the bedroom. He groaned at the sight that greeted him; Dylan had Travis pinned against the door to the loo, one hand down his trousers clearly stroking him. Travis' hands kneaded Dylan's firm arse as they fervently kissed each other.
Travis looked over Dylan's shoulder and nodded, inviting Brett to join them. Brett did so, wrapping his arms around Dylan. He pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, his hands going to Dylan's belt and undoing it with practiced ease, his hands sliding inside to stroke him.
Dylan moaned loudly. Brett smiled and leaned forward, capturing Travis's lips. Dylan was crushed between the two older men as they kissed and he whined as Brett rolled his foreskin with his fingers. "Like that?" Brett asked, breaking his kiss with Travis.
"Oh god yes," Dylan replied enthusiastically.
"Let's move this to the bed," Travis suggested.
"Great idea," Brett's hand slipped from Dylan's trousers before Dylan kicked them off, leaving just his boxers on.
Travis kicked off his trousers as well and pulled Dylan to the bed. Dylan fell back onto the pillows and Travis crawled onto the bed next to him; they kissed as Brett joined them. They moved over and invited him into their kiss. It was a bit awkward, kissing two people at once but it felt amazing. Brett's hands trailed lower and rubbed against the band of Dylan's boxers. "Can I take these off?"
"You first," Dylan grinned.
Brett slid off of the bed as he undid the button and the zip on his jeans. He pushed them and his boxer briefs off. Dylan groaned when Brett's cock came into full view.
Travis laughed, deep and low. "I told you he was fucking huge."
"Oh god," Dylan groaned as Brett re-joined them on the bed. Brett pressed his groin against Dylan's hip, showing the younger man just how much he wanted him. As they kissed, Travis moved off the bed. He pulled his boxer briefs off and Dylan groaned again. Travis, although not as large as Brett, was still very well endowed.
Travis climbed back onto the bed; his hands immediately went to Dylan's boxers and slipped beneath. Dylan lifted his hips and Travis pulled his boxers away; Brett's mouth immediately went to Dylan, inhaling the male musk before swallowing him. Dylan whimpered against Travis' lips as Brett's skilled mouth deftly worked over every inch of him. Travis left Dylan's lips and trailed lower. He paused to pay homage to his nipples before making a blazing trail to Dylan's cock.
Travis kissed Brett before he took over for him, while Brett went lower, licking and sucking Dylan's sac. Dylan growled loudly as the two men worked over his body. Brett rolled away for a second and returned with a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms.
Travis took the bottle from Brett. He pressed one last kiss to the tip of Dylan's cock before Brett went back to sucking Dylan off. Travis coated his fingers and allowed his hand to trail lower, gently petting against Dylan's entrance. He carefully watched the younger man as he gently pressed a finger inside of him.
Dylan whimpered slightly and Travis waited; he could feel Dylan's body contracting around his finger. Brett, for his part, was deep throating Dylan, his hand rolling his sac.
"Oh FUCK!" Dylan called out as Travis found his sweet spot. "Oh god, what is that?" he asked, moving his hips, trying to recreate the feeling.
"That?" Travis asked, winking at Brett.
"Yes, god yes, THAT," Dylan responded enthusiastically as Travis pressed into him again.
Brett stopped sucking his cock; he moved up Dylan's body, stopping to kiss and nibble at his nipples. "That," Brett said between small kisses "Is. Your. Prostate."
"You think my fingers are good, wait until you feel a cock inside of you," Travis said before he went back to sucking Dylan off while his fingers worked him over; he added another and received a throaty moan from Dylan in return.
Brett guided Dylan's hand to his own prick. "That's it," he coached as Dylan immediately started stroking him.
"Who do you want to fuck you?" Travis asked, kissing his hip.
Dylan glanced from Travis to Brett. He squeezed Brett's prick. "I want Brett."
Travis smiled, "I don't blame you." Travis pressed his fingers one last time against Dylan's sweet spot before he let them slip from his body.
Travis moved up to the head of the bed. He kissed Dylan before picking up the strip of condoms, ripped off a packet and tossed it at Brett. Brett caught it and winked at Travis.
Travis pulled Dylan on top of him; he went willingly and they kissed as Brett tore the condom open, rolled it over his hard member and liberally coated it with lube. His fingers slid back inside Dylan, reassuring himself that he was ready.
"You control the pace," Travis reminded him between kisses. "If you say stop, Brett will stop."
"Remember to keep breathing," Brett added as his fingers slipped out.
"And push out as Brett is pushing in - that helps."
Dylan nodded, his head swimming. "Relax," Brett coached as he started to press inside of Dylan.
Travis groaned as he watched the concentration on his partner's face. Brett was truly beautiful, with his dark hair, dark skin and olive eyes. Dylan pressed his face into Travis' chest, his breath coming in short pants. Brett was a couple of inches in when Travis nodded for him to take a break.
Brett's hands went to Dylan's back, rubbing soothing circles. Travis slid backwards on the bed, sitting up so that Dylan was resting against his stomach. "You doing alright?" Travis's fingers ran through Dylan's hair.
"It burns," Dylan admitted. Brett added more lube which soothed it slightly.
"Ready for more?" Travis asked. Dylan nodded; he gripped Travis' waist
tightly.
Brett was just over halfway in when Dylan started to arch away from him.
"Easy," Brett told him, his hands rubbing soothing circles as he waited for Dylan to adjust to his size.
"You're huge," Dylan gasped, trying to control his breathing.
"I know." Brett smirked and caught Travis' eye. He held the gaze as he sunk even further into Dylan. The younger man whimpered and groaned as Brett slid fully into place.
Travis' hands worked over Dylan's back, helping him to stay relaxed. All the while he was watching Brett. Brett started to slowly move his hips; he watched as Travis' smirk grew larger. Dylan went from small noises to loud, broad moans as Brett slowly and thoroughly fucked him. Brett watched Travis' face carefully. His blond hair and striking blue eyes were the exact opposite of Brett's.
Travis could tell that Brett was getting close based on his breathing. "You are so tight," Brett told Dylan, his breath coming in short gasps. "I'm so close."
Dylan nodded his head, giving Brett permission; Brett threw his head back and shouted as he filled the condom. He collapsed against Dylan, waiting, letting his breathing slow before he slowly withdrew from Dylan and flopped to one side. Dylan moved off of Travis and over to Brett, kissing him soundly.
"That was hot," Dylan told him. He pressed his still hard cock against Brett's hip.
Brett smiled, "It was and I think Travis wants you." It was true. Travis had reached for the lube and the condoms; his hands went to Dylan, preparing him, rolling the rubber down over his decent sized cock. Travis laid back and beckoned Dylan to him. Dylan crawled between Travis' legs.
Dylan glanced back at Brett. "Go on," Brett encouraged him. He wanted to watch Travis' face as he came.
Travis guided Dylan inside of him. Travis wasn't big on prep, he'd rather feel the cock stretching him than a couple of fingers. It didn't take much work for Dylan to be inside him and it only took a couple of thrusts for them to fall into an easy rhythm. Brett watched as his partner writhed in ecstasy; part of him felt a bit jealous until Travis turned his head and looked directly at him. Travis closed his eyes each time Dylan thrust into him, but other than that he didn't break their gaze.
Brett moved closer, whispering in Travis' ear, telling him how hot he looked and how much he loved watching him.
Dylan's thrusts increased to a fervent pace. Brett caught Dylan's lips and they hungrily kissed, then he pulled back and watched them again. Brett could tell by their breathing and the way Travis moaned that he was close.
Like before, it wasn't about Travis and Dylan or Brett and Dylan, it was about Brett and Travis. He watched as his partner tumbled over the edge, gasping another man's name.
Dylan shouted too, pumping his hips wildly. He took a shuddering breath and collapsed onto Travis' chest.
"That was amazing," Dylan said, pulling out of Travis; he rolled to one side and pulled off the condom, tied it off and tossed it in the general direction of the waste basket.
Travis nodded and then grinned at Brett. Brett pulled him closer and they kissed, long and slow, reaffirming to each other that they were ok. Dylan sat back and watched; Brett and Travis were amazing together, he was so glad that he got to share in this part of their relationship.
Travis reached down and squeezed Brett's re-hardened cock. "Got a bit excited watching?" he asked with a grin.
Brett nodded. "Well, it was hot."
Travis smiled and kissed Brett one last time. "You know, since you're hard and I doubt it would take Dylan long to recover," Travis winked at Dylan, "Why don't we try out that fantasy of mine?"
Brett let out a low, feral groan. "You mean…?"
"Uh-huh." Both men turned and grinned at Dylan. Travis licked his lips. "I was thinking," he told Dylan, moving across the bed to lie next to him, "That I would love to have both you and Brett inside me at the same time, what do you think about that?"
"You mean like both of us fucking you?" Travis nodded, biting his bottom lip.
"How does that work?"
Brett smiled. "Come here." He beckoned the younger man towards him. "Lay down on your back. Travis is going to suck your cock while I get him ready." Dylan moved so he was lying in the middle of the bed. Travis got on his hands and knees between Dylan's legs and automatically started sucking Dylan's prick.
Brett positioned himself behind Travis, sliding into his partner with practiced ease. Travis groaned around Dylan's cock. Brett gently fucked his tight arse a couple of times before he added a finger.
"More," Travis demanded. Brett added a second finger as he pulled on the tight muscle, stretching it out.
Dylan's hands were in Travis' hair, his hips thrusting upwards as Travis took a face fucking from him. Brett grinned and pounded into Travis harder as he added a third finger. Travis loudly growled around Dylan, telling Brett just how much he was enjoying this.
Travis pulled off of Dylan's cock. "I'm ready, I'm ready," he panted. Brett gave him one last, hard thrust before he slipped from his partner. Travis reached over and ripped open a foil packet, sat up and rolled the condom down over Dylan's now rock hard prick.
Brett reached and grabbed a condom as well, rolling it onto his hard member. Travis moved so that he had one knee on either side of Dylan's hips. He grabbed the base of Dylan's cock and guided it to his opening. Dylan sighed as he slowly sank into Travis. His hands went to the older man's waist, guiding him as he bounced along. Brett watched for a minute before he moved so that he was kneeling behind Travis.
Travis bent forward, his arms braced on either side of Dylan. He took a few slow, deep breaths, preparing him for Brett, then nodded his head ever so slightly. Brett leaned forward and started to press into Travis.
Travis' eyes were closed, his lips pressed tightly together. Dylan watched as he walked that fine line between pain and exquisite pleasure. He was amazed at how it felt, hot and warm, and tight. God, Travis' arse was tight; having Brett's cock pressed in against his made it even more so. He moaned at the same time Travis did as Brett sunk fully into place. Brett stayed still, not moving until Travis gave him silent permission. Dylan didn't move as Brett started to thrust into Travis; he didn't need to. Instead, Dylan laid back and watched as his two temporary lovers made love to each other.
Brett reached around Travis and pulled him backwards so that his chest was flush with Travis' back. Dylan hissed as the change in position sent bursts of pleasure shooting through his body. Brett's strong arms wrapped around Travis' chest and stomach, holding him as Brett moved. He turned his head enough to capture Brett's lips and they shared a heated kiss; Dylan smiled as he watched. Travis reached back and clung to Brett, whispering how good it felt and how full he was.
Dylan reached up and started stroking Travis' prick, causing the older man to growl even louder.
"That's it," Brett coaxed. "That's it, come for me, Travis." Travis' head fell forward. Brett took over stroking him and Dylan focused on thrusting his hips upwards, driving them all towards an orgasm. "That's it." Travis shouted and bucked wildly. He fiercely kissed Brett as he shot his sticky seed all over Dylan. Dylan whimpered loudly as his own release overtook him. He thrust his hips upwards, meeting Brett's own thrusts. Brett sighed and rested his head on Travis' back as he filled his own condom, then they both collapsed forward onto Dylan.
Travis captured Dylan's mouth and moaned into it as Brett pulled out. They kissed for a few moments while Brett got rid of his condom, then Travis rolled off of Dylan, sighing at the loss of Dylan's now softened prick. Travis kissed Brett soundly before Dylan rejoined them. This time it was Travis in the middle as they shared a three-way kiss.
They took their time as they came down from the high of their orgasm and the amazing sex they'd just had.
"We should get cleaned up," Travis suggested finally. He pulled Brett and Dylan out of bed and into the bathroom. Thanks to Brett's connections, they had gotten an architect to redesign their flat a couple of years ago; he magically found enough space in their tiny bathroom for a walk in shower with four heads.
Brett turned the shower on, and waited for it to reach the right temperature before they stepped in. They quickly soaped up, Dylan pressed between Brett and Travis; the two older men took their time, solely focusing on Dylan. It didn't take long before Dylan threw his head back and shouted as his third orgasm of the night overtook him. They kissed one last time before they rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. Travis tossed towels at Brett and Dylan. Each man dried off before they pulled on their underwear and went into the kitchen. Travis opened another bottle of wine and Brett dished up the roast.
It was half ten but they all ate with gusto. Afterwards, Dylan got dressed and left, but not before thoroughly kissing both men and thanking them.
Sally mournfully trooped into the hallway after Dylan left, her tail thumping on the floor. She clearly expected to be taken for a walk. "Come on, let's take them," Travis said, pulling Brett upstairs. They went back into the bedroom and got dressed. The night was cold and once they were dressed properly, Brett called for the dogs to come and get their sweaters on.
Brett dressed Horton in a Blue sweater while Travis dressed Sally in a matching lavender one; their names were embroidered on the back.
They took the dogs for a brisk walk, holding hands when their Bassets allowed them to, which wasn't very often. Once they got back, the dogs got put out for their night-time wees. When they came back inside, Travis gave them night-time treats; satisfied, they both curled onto chairs opposite the fireplace and went to sleep.
Brett pulled Travis upstairs, where they fell into bed. "I love you," Travis told Brett moments before he entered him.
"I love you too."
They made love softly, reaffirming their connection; afterwards, Brett whispered, "I'm not sure if I want to do that again."
"What, make love to me?" Travis asked, bumping his nose against Brett's.
"No, watch you be with someone else. I was jealous," Brett admitted.
"I was too; I thought it would all be about Dylan."
Brett nodded. "So did I, but it ended up being about us."
Travis kissed him again. "I think Dylan knew that though, he seemed to be ok with it."
Brett nodded.
"And thank you."
"For what?" Brett asked, his hands gently running over Travis' body.
"For making my fantasy come true." Brett smiled and kissed his partner one last time before they curled up together and simply went to sleep.
****
Uhhh yeah YUM!! Lol!! I hope you all enjoyed this!! As much as I enjoyed writing it!!! Make sure you pop over to my Blog for Six Sentence Sunday! And don't forget! "Sometimes It's Fate" is coming out in May 2011!!
Xx
Angela!
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AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!
Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
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Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A FREE short from me, revisiting Nic and Aidan from Sparks Fly.
JAN 01: A huge selection of delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.
JAN 02: Why I want to be a Bond villain! by
chrissymunder
.
JAN 03: Consider the world of inspiration between 'historical' and 'contemporary' with
stevie_carroll
.
JAN 04: Some fascinating Swedish proverbs and their amusing translations, from
1more_sickpuppy
.
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Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
angelasstone
, an author and blogger who has her first publication coming out in 2011 and some fiction to share with us (NOTE: NC17).~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blurb: Angela is a twenty something nurse and writer living in Central Canada. She says that she literally grew up "around a kitchen table". Food, friends, family and good times all played a huge part in her childhood. She has been writing for as long as she can remember (if you ask very nicely she might even share her very first story with you). She is a huge fan of the classic Boy-meets-
She loves hearing from her readers you can e-mail her anytime at: contact.angelastone@gmail.com or visit her
Blog: http://angelasstone.livejournal.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/angelasstone
A year in the life...
A year, a great big entire year has passed since Clare last opened her blog to me and allowed me to post and introduce you to me and my stories.
Wow what a year it's been.
A year ago I was sitting in a tiny apartment in northern New Brunswick (Canada!) struggling to write my blog post for her. The truth is I was struggling in all aspects of my life. Trying to finish school, and move and change my whole life. Trying to recover after an abusive relationship and trying to move on.
A year later things are so different. I've finished university. With flying colours despite the doubts that I couldn't do it. I now have a Degree in nursing as well as I'm now a Registered Nurse. I have a dream job working for a visiting agency. I live in a large(ish) city with my family, a new boyfriend and spent time traveling around the world and have been writing like crazy!
AND!!!
My first Novel is due to come out from Phaze Books in May 2011.
Sometimes It's Fate is a Contemporary M/M romance set in Small-town Canada. The blurb is below:
Jason McCarthy is gay. He's also a police officer living in a small minded northern New Brunswick town where being gay could spell the end of his career. When an impending snowstorm threatens to strand his best friend and policing partner, David, Jason offers up his spare room for the night. A move that reveals Jason's secret and changed their friendship and their lives forever.
David Richard isn't gay at least he doesn't think he is. He knows he loves his best friend, and he admits to feelings that had started after a tragic accident almost a year before. David acts on these feelings but it doesn't go well. Leaving both men alone and hurt. When David's kids are abandoned by their mother, Jason doesn't think twice about stepping in and rescuing them. The move brings David and Jason back together but Jason's past rears its ugly head and they both have to make difficult decisions that sometimes are best left up to fate.
Wow the novel is getting ready to start the Editing process soon (I hope anyway!!). I don't have a cover-YET! But as soon as I do I'll give it to Clare to stick up here :)! I'm thrilled that my first real novel has gotten picked up. I'm now working on the sequel "Boots on the Ground" which focuses on Jason and a new character Ash McCarty. It's totally written (In my head anyway) and now I'm working on getting it all out on "paper" (aka a MS word document!!). After that I have a third novel already a few scenes written for. Plus a spin off for Ash and one for Craig who is a minor character with a major impact on Jason and David in the first novel. I also have an Idea swirling for a Het novel (No I promise I'm not sick) featuring a female character that you meet in Boots on the Ground. Yeah this will end up being a huge universe but I have so many stories for these characters!!
I've also got half a dozen other novels half written. I'm finding I'm not the kind of author that can solely focus on one novel finish it and move onto the next. I tend to write 4 or 5 novels at once, then when I get to a certain point in them I focus and finish several in quick succession. Different from most but it's what works for me right??
I also have a large range of areas I write. From a sweet a fluffy romance to hard-core kink. To a Happily Never After to historical fiction. I tend to have a few common threads. Such as if my characters have a dog it's always a Basset Hound.
I've also discovered I'm a series type writer. It's really hard for me to write just ONE novel featuring the characters. One series I'm working on which is fluffy romance I'm thinking of calling it the "Professions series" as so far the books are titled "The Teacher and the Cop", "The Doctor and the Builder" and "The Model and the Lawyer".
The other series I'm working on is hard-core kink/ BDSM. One that is over 50% complete is titled "The Handballers Association." Yes it's about what you think it is about. I have another one I'm working on that isn't titled yet but has some of the same characters. I often worry I push too many boundaries in my novels. Use too many extremes.
***
So! I wrote this little bit of fiction a while ago. It's titled "Explorations" and features a favourite kink of mine...
Title: Explorations
Author: Angela S. Stone
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M/M, Double Penetration.
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, event or locales is entirely coincidental.
The note on the fridge told him that his PA, Dylan, wasn't in for the day, which was perfect; no interruptions from work. Brett started coffee for himself and tea for Travis. It was Sunday, finally, and he had a rare day off from his engineering firm which he ran from home; his partner Travis was off for the weekend from his law practice. The coffee was almost done when Travis wandered into kitchen, naked. Brett grabbed him and pushed him against the counter.
Brett sunk to his knees. His mouth roamed over his partner before he swallowed his hard, un-cut prick. Travis groaned and his hands gripped Brett's hair as Brett sucked and rolled his foreskin in his mouth. Brett's hands cupped Travis' sack, rolling the sensitive skin. He was rewarded with a throaty groan. Brett pulled back and sucked on his fingers, getting them nice and wet, then went back to working Travis over with his mouth, his fingers brushing against Travis's entrance. When Travis nodded absently, giving his partner permission, Brett slid his fingers inside of him with only a hint of resistance, making Travis growl loudly and thrust against him.
"Brett." Travis tugged on his hair. Brett's response was to swallow him deep, his fingers searching for his sweet spot. The sharp intake of breath told Brett that he had found it. "Brett," Travis said more urgently. Brett swallowed around his partner, pressing into his sweet spot, causing Travis to moan, his body contracting as hot streams of liquid shot down Brett's throat. Brett swallowed greedily, enjoying the taste of his lover, then pulled off grinning.
Travis leaned back and laughed, nodding his head towards the door. It was only then Brett realized that Travis had been trying to tell him someone else was in the kitchen. He turned around to find Dylan staring open mouthed at the two of them, his trousers doing nothing to hide the obvious erection that had formed.
"I… Sorry," Dylan mumbled. He dropped the bags he had in his hands onto the kitchen floor and fled back into the hall. The main door didn't open again, so Brett assumed Dylan was in the office at the front of the maisonette.
"Well, that was interesting," Travis commented as he pulled Brett up off of the floor. He kissed the older man soundly.
"I thought he was straight," Brett replied. Dylan had never verbally or otherwise expressed any interest in the male gender. Brett had always assumed that although currently single, he was chasing after females on the nights that he wasn't working. Those nights seemed to be happening less and less as Brett became busier. Brett gave up his partnership in a large firm downtown to work from home, to relax for his last fifteen years or so before his retirement. Dylan was a critical part of that plan, from organizing meetings, to doing the shopping and even reminding Brett to eat. Travis's work meant that he travelled a lot, so it was often just Brett and their two Bassett Hounds rattling around the flat when he was gone.
Travis kissed Brett again, "So did I, maybe you should go talk to him," he suggested. Then he glanced down, "Maybe you should get dressed first," he added, squeezing Brett's hard-on through the pair of tight boxer briefs.
"Yeah." Brett followed Travis upstairs; he quickly dressed in a pair of pj pants and shirt before he went back into the kitchen, where he poured two mugs of coffee and added the appropriate amount of milk and sugar to each. He went out into the hallway and knocked on the door to the office.
It pushed open. Dylan was sitting, staring at a blank computer screen. "Dylan?"
He looked up at Brett and flushed. "Brett, I…"
"It's ok," Brett interrupted his apology, handing him the mug of coffee. Dylan was sitting back in his desk chair and Brett perched himself on the corner of the desk, careful not to knock over any of the neat piles of papers that covered the surface.
Dylan accepted the mug. "Still, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to watch, it was just…" He flushed ever darker.
"Intriguing? Interesting? A turn on? All of the above?" Brett suggested.
Dylan nodded. "I'm not... I just…" he said haltingly, "I see what you and Travis have. You are so lucky. Most people, gay or straight, don't ever find that."
"I'm lucky Travis puts up with me."
Dylan smiled.
"I keep wondering if I'm missing out on something," he told Brett, fiddling with the handle of his coffee mug, "Like what if there is the perfect guy out there for me instead of a girl?"
"Are you gay?" Brett asked bluntly.
Dylan was taken back, but then slowly shook his head no. "Just… Open - willing to experience, I think." He stopped, then said, "Wanting to experience, to make sure I'm not missing out on anything."
Brett nodded and left the conversation at that.
That had all taken place three weeks ago; in the meantime, Travis had cornered Dylan and talked to him as well.
Travis was better at that sort of thing and he had gotten far more information than Brett ever could. Dylan wanted to have sex. More specifically, he wanted to have sex with Brett and Travis. Dylan had confessed that he trusted Brett and Travis implicitly and he knew that they would make his first time special. Brett was rather chuffed that Dylan trusted him, trusted them, enough to have that conversation, even if it was only hypothetical.
There were so many more elements to having a threesome than just adding in a third person. First they had to make sure that they were ok, secure in their relationship. And they were. It was shocking to admit, but it was the first time that they had even considered engaging in a threesome. They had done partner switches before with another lawyer from Travis's firm, but this was the first time there was a third person for them to focus all of their attention on.
Brett was excited by the prospect, so much so that Travis took him over the back of the couch just minutes before Dylan was due to arrive. It was a quick, hard fuck to get the need out of their systems so that they could focus on Dylan when he arrived. He was due any moment. Brett had made dinner; if it was anything more complicated than fish sticks out of a box, Travis was rather hopeless - so the plan was dinner and wine and to see where it led them.
The door bell sounded and two dogs looked up from the chairs, where they had been dozing. They both howled loudly, their short legs scrabbling to gain footing on the hardwood floors as they ran to the door. Brett answered it, holding the dogs back with his foot.
"Did you forget your keys?" he asked, pulling the dogs back to allow Dylan to enter into the front hall. They both barked loudly. "Sally! Horton!" Brett scolded. Dylan reached down and petted both of them; satisfied that it was someone they knew, they both disappeared back into the flat, probably looking for treats from Travis.
"Just felt right to ring the doorbell," Dylan replied with a smile. Brett nodded in understanding; Dylan wanted to be accepted into the house as a friend and not as an employee. That has been the biggest hang-up for them. Dylan, although a friend, was still an employee.
The partner switches they had done had always involved Brett sleeping with Travis's co-worker, and his partner sleeping with Travis. It had taken a lot of conversation on all of their parts before they felt comfortable to just take it however it came. Right now, Dylan was their friend before anything else and no matter what happened, they were all mature enough to honour that fact.
Brett invited him into the living room. Travis called from the kitchen, asking if they wanted wine; they did. Brett appeared a few moments later carrying three glasses and kicked the dogs off the chairs. They growled before settling on the bed in front of the gas fireplace. Brett took the chair, allowing Dylan and Travis to take the couch.
Dylan was very attractive, and if Brett was totally honest with himself that was part of the reason he hired him. He had floppy brown hair, long enough to run your fingers through, and brilliant green eyes. He was about six feet tall and was in excellent shape. Dylan was twelve years younger than Brett and ten years younger than Travis. Not that that mattered, though; Brett always had a thing for younger men.
Travis handed Brett a glass before dropping himself next to Dylan on the couch. Dylan accepted the glass and proceeded to all but chug the wine. Travis stopped him and took the almost empty glass from him, setting it on the coffee table. "If you can't do this mostly sober, we're not going to do this at all."
"I know. I'm just…" He stopped and licked his lips.
"Nervous?" Travis supplied. Dylan nodded. Travis reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. "That's ok. I'd be a bit worried if you weren't nervous. Just know that we'll take this slow - at your speed - and we'll only go as far as you want."
Dylan smiled a small smile. God, Travis was so good at this, gently loving - caring. This isn't about us doing a wham bam thank you ma'am. This is a slow, thorough romp that hopefully will leave all three men thoroughly satisfied. "Can I ask a question?" Dylan said nervously.
"Of course," Travis replied.
Dylan glanced nervously from Brett back to Travis and hesitantly asked, "Can I kiss you?"
The smallest smirk formed at the corner of Travis' mouth, "Of course." Dylan looked back at Brett for permission. Brett gave a small nod of his head. Dylan tucked one leg up and turned to face Travis. He leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Travis'. Travis waited as Dylan slowly opened his mouth, inviting him in for a much deeper kiss. Travis' hand went to Dylan's shoulder, pulling him in just a bit tighter. Dylan made a soft noise; his arms went around Travis, pulling him very close. Travis went willingly, allowing Dylan to explore his body at his own pace.
Travis' hands automatically went to stroke Dylan through his trousers; the younger man jumped back and blushed. "Sorry," he mumbled, flushing slightly.
"It's alright." Travis ran a knuckle down the side of Dylan's face. Dylan smiled and leaned in, capturing Travis' lips again for a kiss before he pulled away. Dylan looked over his shoulder at Brett and raised an eyebrow. His invitation was clear. Travis shifted over as did Dylan, making room for Brett on the couch. Dylan was in the middle as Brett settled next to him. He leaned down and captured Dylan's lips. Dylan tasted like wine and a bit like Travis, and something else; something new, something exciting. Dylan hesitantly ran his fingers over Brett's chest; he groaned as they ghosted over his nipples.
Dylan tugged the polo shirt from the waistband of Brett's jeans; his hand slid underneath, trailing upwards. He pinched Brett's nipples, which caused Brett to gasp loudly. Dylan jumped back as though he had been bitten. "I… sorry, did I hurt you?" A quick glance at Travis showed Brett the humour in his eyes.
"No you didn't," Brett assured him. "It was quiet nice."
Travis let out a low and husky laugh. "Brett likes it a bit rougher at times," he told Dylan, kissing his neck. "Don't worry. Just do what feels right."
Dylan swallowed, nodding his head. Travis leaned in and captured Dylan's lips; he closed his eyes, drawing Dylan further into the kiss, his arms around the younger man, encouraging him to touch and to feel. Brett pressed against Dylan's back, his hands threaded under Dylan's shirt. He pulled it off and tossed it aside. Dylan broke the kiss and turned to face Brett. Travis smiled; his fingers rubbed against Dylan's nipples as he and Brett hungrily kissed. Dylan growled and fell back so that he was leaning against the cushions of the couch; Brett continued to kiss him and Travis's mouth replaced his fingers as he trailed lower.
Dylan's hands tugged at Brett's shirt and he tossed it off. Brett sat back for a moment and Dylan smirked, enjoying his sculpted body and his obvious attraction, pressed against Dylan's thigh. Dylan tugged on Travis' shirt. He sat up and pulled it off. Dylan grinned and leaned forward, taking one of Travis' nipples into his mouth; Travis groaned and his fingers snaked through Dylan's long hair.
Brett caught his partner's eye and they exchanged a nod, having a complete conversation without uttering a word.
"Dylan," Brett said gently, pulling him away from Travis and towards him. His lips were dark and puffy, his eyes slightly out of focus and his breath coming in small spurts. Brett couldn't resist kissing him before he said, "Why don't we move this to the bedroom?"
Dylan paused and stuttered, "What about dinner?"
Travis grinned. "What about dinner?"
"Shouldn't we…" Dylan trailed off and glanced towards the kitchen.
"We don't have to do anything," Brett growled before kissing Dylan again.
"Let's go to the bedroom," Travis told him as he gracefully slid off of the couch, pulling Dylan along.
"I'll be right there." Brett dashed into the kitchen and turned the roast down. It would keep until later.
The dogs were lying outside the bedroom door; they both looked up at Brett and "humphed" softly before laying back down and going to sleep. Brett stepped over them and let himself into the bedroom. He groaned at the sight that greeted him; Dylan had Travis pinned against the door to the loo, one hand down his trousers clearly stroking him. Travis' hands kneaded Dylan's firm arse as they fervently kissed each other.
Travis looked over Dylan's shoulder and nodded, inviting Brett to join them. Brett did so, wrapping his arms around Dylan. He pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, his hands going to Dylan's belt and undoing it with practiced ease, his hands sliding inside to stroke him.
Dylan moaned loudly. Brett smiled and leaned forward, capturing Travis's lips. Dylan was crushed between the two older men as they kissed and he whined as Brett rolled his foreskin with his fingers. "Like that?" Brett asked, breaking his kiss with Travis.
"Oh god yes," Dylan replied enthusiastically.
"Let's move this to the bed," Travis suggested.
"Great idea," Brett's hand slipped from Dylan's trousers before Dylan kicked them off, leaving just his boxers on.
Travis kicked off his trousers as well and pulled Dylan to the bed. Dylan fell back onto the pillows and Travis crawled onto the bed next to him; they kissed as Brett joined them. They moved over and invited him into their kiss. It was a bit awkward, kissing two people at once but it felt amazing. Brett's hands trailed lower and rubbed against the band of Dylan's boxers. "Can I take these off?"
"You first," Dylan grinned.
Brett slid off of the bed as he undid the button and the zip on his jeans. He pushed them and his boxer briefs off. Dylan groaned when Brett's cock came into full view.
Travis laughed, deep and low. "I told you he was fucking huge."
"Oh god," Dylan groaned as Brett re-joined them on the bed. Brett pressed his groin against Dylan's hip, showing the younger man just how much he wanted him. As they kissed, Travis moved off the bed. He pulled his boxer briefs off and Dylan groaned again. Travis, although not as large as Brett, was still very well endowed.
Travis climbed back onto the bed; his hands immediately went to Dylan's boxers and slipped beneath. Dylan lifted his hips and Travis pulled his boxers away; Brett's mouth immediately went to Dylan, inhaling the male musk before swallowing him. Dylan whimpered against Travis' lips as Brett's skilled mouth deftly worked over every inch of him. Travis left Dylan's lips and trailed lower. He paused to pay homage to his nipples before making a blazing trail to Dylan's cock.
Travis kissed Brett before he took over for him, while Brett went lower, licking and sucking Dylan's sac. Dylan growled loudly as the two men worked over his body. Brett rolled away for a second and returned with a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms.
Travis took the bottle from Brett. He pressed one last kiss to the tip of Dylan's cock before Brett went back to sucking Dylan off. Travis coated his fingers and allowed his hand to trail lower, gently petting against Dylan's entrance. He carefully watched the younger man as he gently pressed a finger inside of him.
Dylan whimpered slightly and Travis waited; he could feel Dylan's body contracting around his finger. Brett, for his part, was deep throating Dylan, his hand rolling his sac.
"Oh FUCK!" Dylan called out as Travis found his sweet spot. "Oh god, what is that?" he asked, moving his hips, trying to recreate the feeling.
"That?" Travis asked, winking at Brett.
"Yes, god yes, THAT," Dylan responded enthusiastically as Travis pressed into him again.
Brett stopped sucking his cock; he moved up Dylan's body, stopping to kiss and nibble at his nipples. "That," Brett said between small kisses "Is. Your. Prostate."
"You think my fingers are good, wait until you feel a cock inside of you," Travis said before he went back to sucking Dylan off while his fingers worked him over; he added another and received a throaty moan from Dylan in return.
Brett guided Dylan's hand to his own prick. "That's it," he coached as Dylan immediately started stroking him.
"Who do you want to fuck you?" Travis asked, kissing his hip.
Dylan glanced from Travis to Brett. He squeezed Brett's prick. "I want Brett."
Travis smiled, "I don't blame you." Travis pressed his fingers one last time against Dylan's sweet spot before he let them slip from his body.
Travis moved up to the head of the bed. He kissed Dylan before picking up the strip of condoms, ripped off a packet and tossed it at Brett. Brett caught it and winked at Travis.
Travis pulled Dylan on top of him; he went willingly and they kissed as Brett tore the condom open, rolled it over his hard member and liberally coated it with lube. His fingers slid back inside Dylan, reassuring himself that he was ready.
"You control the pace," Travis reminded him between kisses. "If you say stop, Brett will stop."
"Remember to keep breathing," Brett added as his fingers slipped out.
"And push out as Brett is pushing in - that helps."
Dylan nodded, his head swimming. "Relax," Brett coached as he started to press inside of Dylan.
Travis groaned as he watched the concentration on his partner's face. Brett was truly beautiful, with his dark hair, dark skin and olive eyes. Dylan pressed his face into Travis' chest, his breath coming in short pants. Brett was a couple of inches in when Travis nodded for him to take a break.
Brett's hands went to Dylan's back, rubbing soothing circles. Travis slid backwards on the bed, sitting up so that Dylan was resting against his stomach. "You doing alright?" Travis's fingers ran through Dylan's hair.
"It burns," Dylan admitted. Brett added more lube which soothed it slightly.
"Ready for more?" Travis asked. Dylan nodded; he gripped Travis' waist
tightly.
Brett was just over halfway in when Dylan started to arch away from him.
"Easy," Brett told him, his hands rubbing soothing circles as he waited for Dylan to adjust to his size.
"You're huge," Dylan gasped, trying to control his breathing.
"I know." Brett smirked and caught Travis' eye. He held the gaze as he sunk even further into Dylan. The younger man whimpered and groaned as Brett slid fully into place.
Travis' hands worked over Dylan's back, helping him to stay relaxed. All the while he was watching Brett. Brett started to slowly move his hips; he watched as Travis' smirk grew larger. Dylan went from small noises to loud, broad moans as Brett slowly and thoroughly fucked him. Brett watched Travis' face carefully. His blond hair and striking blue eyes were the exact opposite of Brett's.
Travis could tell that Brett was getting close based on his breathing. "You are so tight," Brett told Dylan, his breath coming in short gasps. "I'm so close."
Dylan nodded his head, giving Brett permission; Brett threw his head back and shouted as he filled the condom. He collapsed against Dylan, waiting, letting his breathing slow before he slowly withdrew from Dylan and flopped to one side. Dylan moved off of Travis and over to Brett, kissing him soundly.
"That was hot," Dylan told him. He pressed his still hard cock against Brett's hip.
Brett smiled, "It was and I think Travis wants you." It was true. Travis had reached for the lube and the condoms; his hands went to Dylan, preparing him, rolling the rubber down over his decent sized cock. Travis laid back and beckoned Dylan to him. Dylan crawled between Travis' legs.
Dylan glanced back at Brett. "Go on," Brett encouraged him. He wanted to watch Travis' face as he came.
Travis guided Dylan inside of him. Travis wasn't big on prep, he'd rather feel the cock stretching him than a couple of fingers. It didn't take much work for Dylan to be inside him and it only took a couple of thrusts for them to fall into an easy rhythm. Brett watched as his partner writhed in ecstasy; part of him felt a bit jealous until Travis turned his head and looked directly at him. Travis closed his eyes each time Dylan thrust into him, but other than that he didn't break their gaze.
Brett moved closer, whispering in Travis' ear, telling him how hot he looked and how much he loved watching him.
Dylan's thrusts increased to a fervent pace. Brett caught Dylan's lips and they hungrily kissed, then he pulled back and watched them again. Brett could tell by their breathing and the way Travis moaned that he was close.
Like before, it wasn't about Travis and Dylan or Brett and Dylan, it was about Brett and Travis. He watched as his partner tumbled over the edge, gasping another man's name.
Dylan shouted too, pumping his hips wildly. He took a shuddering breath and collapsed onto Travis' chest.
"That was amazing," Dylan said, pulling out of Travis; he rolled to one side and pulled off the condom, tied it off and tossed it in the general direction of the waste basket.
Travis nodded and then grinned at Brett. Brett pulled him closer and they kissed, long and slow, reaffirming to each other that they were ok. Dylan sat back and watched; Brett and Travis were amazing together, he was so glad that he got to share in this part of their relationship.
Travis reached down and squeezed Brett's re-hardened cock. "Got a bit excited watching?" he asked with a grin.
Brett nodded. "Well, it was hot."
Travis smiled and kissed Brett one last time. "You know, since you're hard and I doubt it would take Dylan long to recover," Travis winked at Dylan, "Why don't we try out that fantasy of mine?"
Brett let out a low, feral groan. "You mean…?"
"Uh-huh." Both men turned and grinned at Dylan. Travis licked his lips. "I was thinking," he told Dylan, moving across the bed to lie next to him, "That I would love to have both you and Brett inside me at the same time, what do you think about that?"
"You mean like both of us fucking you?" Travis nodded, biting his bottom lip.
"How does that work?"
Brett smiled. "Come here." He beckoned the younger man towards him. "Lay down on your back. Travis is going to suck your cock while I get him ready." Dylan moved so he was lying in the middle of the bed. Travis got on his hands and knees between Dylan's legs and automatically started sucking Dylan's prick.
Brett positioned himself behind Travis, sliding into his partner with practiced ease. Travis groaned around Dylan's cock. Brett gently fucked his tight arse a couple of times before he added a finger.
"More," Travis demanded. Brett added a second finger as he pulled on the tight muscle, stretching it out.
Dylan's hands were in Travis' hair, his hips thrusting upwards as Travis took a face fucking from him. Brett grinned and pounded into Travis harder as he added a third finger. Travis loudly growled around Dylan, telling Brett just how much he was enjoying this.
Travis pulled off of Dylan's cock. "I'm ready, I'm ready," he panted. Brett gave him one last, hard thrust before he slipped from his partner. Travis reached over and ripped open a foil packet, sat up and rolled the condom down over Dylan's now rock hard prick.
Brett reached and grabbed a condom as well, rolling it onto his hard member. Travis moved so that he had one knee on either side of Dylan's hips. He grabbed the base of Dylan's cock and guided it to his opening. Dylan sighed as he slowly sank into Travis. His hands went to the older man's waist, guiding him as he bounced along. Brett watched for a minute before he moved so that he was kneeling behind Travis.
Travis bent forward, his arms braced on either side of Dylan. He took a few slow, deep breaths, preparing him for Brett, then nodded his head ever so slightly. Brett leaned forward and started to press into Travis.
Travis' eyes were closed, his lips pressed tightly together. Dylan watched as he walked that fine line between pain and exquisite pleasure. He was amazed at how it felt, hot and warm, and tight. God, Travis' arse was tight; having Brett's cock pressed in against his made it even more so. He moaned at the same time Travis did as Brett sunk fully into place. Brett stayed still, not moving until Travis gave him silent permission. Dylan didn't move as Brett started to thrust into Travis; he didn't need to. Instead, Dylan laid back and watched as his two temporary lovers made love to each other.
Brett reached around Travis and pulled him backwards so that his chest was flush with Travis' back. Dylan hissed as the change in position sent bursts of pleasure shooting through his body. Brett's strong arms wrapped around Travis' chest and stomach, holding him as Brett moved. He turned his head enough to capture Brett's lips and they shared a heated kiss; Dylan smiled as he watched. Travis reached back and clung to Brett, whispering how good it felt and how full he was.
Dylan reached up and started stroking Travis' prick, causing the older man to growl even louder.
"That's it," Brett coaxed. "That's it, come for me, Travis." Travis' head fell forward. Brett took over stroking him and Dylan focused on thrusting his hips upwards, driving them all towards an orgasm. "That's it." Travis shouted and bucked wildly. He fiercely kissed Brett as he shot his sticky seed all over Dylan. Dylan whimpered loudly as his own release overtook him. He thrust his hips upwards, meeting Brett's own thrusts. Brett sighed and rested his head on Travis' back as he filled his own condom, then they both collapsed forward onto Dylan.
Travis captured Dylan's mouth and moaned into it as Brett pulled out. They kissed for a few moments while Brett got rid of his condom, then Travis rolled off of Dylan, sighing at the loss of Dylan's now softened prick. Travis kissed Brett soundly before Dylan rejoined them. This time it was Travis in the middle as they shared a three-way kiss.
They took their time as they came down from the high of their orgasm and the amazing sex they'd just had.
"We should get cleaned up," Travis suggested finally. He pulled Brett and Dylan out of bed and into the bathroom. Thanks to Brett's connections, they had gotten an architect to redesign their flat a couple of years ago; he magically found enough space in their tiny bathroom for a walk in shower with four heads.
Brett turned the shower on, and waited for it to reach the right temperature before they stepped in. They quickly soaped up, Dylan pressed between Brett and Travis; the two older men took their time, solely focusing on Dylan. It didn't take long before Dylan threw his head back and shouted as his third orgasm of the night overtook him. They kissed one last time before they rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. Travis tossed towels at Brett and Dylan. Each man dried off before they pulled on their underwear and went into the kitchen. Travis opened another bottle of wine and Brett dished up the roast.
It was half ten but they all ate with gusto. Afterwards, Dylan got dressed and left, but not before thoroughly kissing both men and thanking them.
Sally mournfully trooped into the hallway after Dylan left, her tail thumping on the floor. She clearly expected to be taken for a walk. "Come on, let's take them," Travis said, pulling Brett upstairs. They went back into the bedroom and got dressed. The night was cold and once they were dressed properly, Brett called for the dogs to come and get their sweaters on.
Brett dressed Horton in a Blue sweater while Travis dressed Sally in a matching lavender one; their names were embroidered on the back.
They took the dogs for a brisk walk, holding hands when their Bassets allowed them to, which wasn't very often. Once they got back, the dogs got put out for their night-time wees. When they came back inside, Travis gave them night-time treats; satisfied, they both curled onto chairs opposite the fireplace and went to sleep.
Brett pulled Travis upstairs, where they fell into bed. "I love you," Travis told Brett moments before he entered him.
"I love you too."
They made love softly, reaffirming their connection; afterwards, Brett whispered, "I'm not sure if I want to do that again."
"What, make love to me?" Travis asked, bumping his nose against Brett's.
"No, watch you be with someone else. I was jealous," Brett admitted.
"I was too; I thought it would all be about Dylan."
Brett nodded. "So did I, but it ended up being about us."
Travis kissed him again. "I think Dylan knew that though, he seemed to be ok with it."
Brett nodded.
"And thank you."
"For what?" Brett asked, his hands gently running over Travis' body.
"For making my fantasy come true." Brett smiled and kissed his partner one last time before they curled up together and simply went to sleep.
****
Uhhh yeah YUM!! Lol!! I hope you all enjoyed this!! As much as I enjoyed writing it!!! Make sure you pop over to my Blog for Six Sentence Sunday! And don't forget! "Sometimes It's Fate" is coming out in May 2011!!
Xx
Angela!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A FREE short from me, revisiting Nic and Aidan from Sparks Fly.
JAN 01: A huge selection of delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.JAN 02: Why I want to be a Bond villain! by
chrissymunder
.JAN 03: Consider the world of inspiration between 'historical' and 'contemporary' with
stevie_carroll
.JAN 04: Some fascinating Swedish proverbs and their amusing translations, from
1more_sickpuppy
.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
January 4, 2011
WHAT DO WE LOSE IN TRANSLATION? :)
Today's post is an international delight from Josie,
1more_sickpuppy
. She's sharing some amusing and fascinating Swedish proverbs - that may or may not translate to the same in English LOL.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi all, I thought I'd randomly share some Swedish proverbs. Bet you didn't see that one coming!
The idea is sprung from my recent visit to San Francisco, when mentioning a saying we have in Sweden provided some amusement: sifting mosquitos and swallowing camels.
I only just learned that it is Biblical in origin, which of course makes sense. We sure don't have any camels up here to go with the mosquitos. You'll know it as "straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel".
I suppose our shared history, not least that of Christianity, and shared humanity is the reason so many sayings and proverbs are nearly identical in Swedish and English: it takes two to make a quarrel; grasp all, lose all; one swallow does not make for summer.
But do you know or use any of these? I've added some clarifications – feel free to shed further light!
Note: the translations are fairly direct and therefore most poetic qualities are lost.
Don't judge the dog by its hairs - "don't judge a book by its covers".
Sour, said the fox of the rowanberries - apparently the rowanberries are a derivation of the "sour grapes" from "The Fox and the Grapes" in Aesop's Fables.
Away is good, but at home is best.
Angry cats get scratched skin - "quarrelsome dogs come limping home".
Burnt child shuns the fire.
One who waits for something good, never waits too long - often used by parents on hungry or eager children. At which point, the child will think, 'that's dumb, when you're waiting for something good, it always takes too long to get it!'
There is no bad weather, only bad clothing - chyeah right..!
What is hidden in snow, is revealed at thaw.
If there is room in the heart, there is room for the behind - this one really looses something in translation, it is shorter and rhymes nicely in Swedish. More like, "if there is heart-room there is butt-room", really. The meaning being that you can accommodate more people/guests if you make an effort.
First one to the mill (gets to grind first)... - "first come, first served".
To walk like a cat around hot porridge - this usually refers to talking "around" a topic without getting to the point, because it is a sensitive or intimidating issue. "Beating around the bush", I guess?
No danger on the roof - means there is no harm done, no imminent danger, not to worry. Is this like "Bob's your uncle"? And why the heck would you talk about some uncle named Bob??
A beloved child has many names - someone or something which is popular is often referred to by many different epithets.
Alike children play best - that you get along best with people who are like you, perhaps is the same as "birds of a feather flock together"?
In the shallowest waters swim the ugliest fish - "an ugly fish" usually refers to a suspicious, dishonest and possibly criminal person. I.e. such a person might be found where you don't expect it, near plain sight rather than in the deep and dark waters.
A small tuft often overturns a big load - the little hindrances may be fatal.
Don't cross the brook for water - because that would be unnecessary. Don't complicate things.
Don't yell 'hello' until you've crossed the creek - kinda like "don't count your chickens before they're hatched."
Evil gunpowder doesn't easily perish - I never knew the origin of this until now: it is an old etymological misunderstanding of the German phrase "unkraut vergeht nicht", something like "weeds won't go away". Swedes apparently thought "unkraut" sounded more like "ont krut" which translates to evil gunpowder…
Small pots also have ears - even though kids are small, they do hear and understand a lot. The handles on a pot, we call ears, maybe you guys do to.
And my favourite, a modern one:
Lots of talk and little hockey - all talk and no action. Well, really it's 'too much talking and too little shop (doing)', but I like to say hockey. Sports commentators, like car shop dealers, may talk a lot while there's not enough ice hockey being played or cars being repaired. Not that I'm into either, lol.
Thanks for having me!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!
Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A FREE short from me, revisiting Nic and Aidan from Sparks Fly.
JAN 01: A huge selection of delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.
JAN 02: Why I want to be a Bond villain! by
chrissymunder
.
JAN 03: Consider the world of inspiration between 'historical' and 'contemporary' with
stevie_carroll
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
1more_sickpuppy
. She's sharing some amusing and fascinating Swedish proverbs - that may or may not translate to the same in English LOL.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi all, I thought I'd randomly share some Swedish proverbs. Bet you didn't see that one coming!
The idea is sprung from my recent visit to San Francisco, when mentioning a saying we have in Sweden provided some amusement: sifting mosquitos and swallowing camels.I only just learned that it is Biblical in origin, which of course makes sense. We sure don't have any camels up here to go with the mosquitos. You'll know it as "straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel".
I suppose our shared history, not least that of Christianity, and shared humanity is the reason so many sayings and proverbs are nearly identical in Swedish and English: it takes two to make a quarrel; grasp all, lose all; one swallow does not make for summer.
But do you know or use any of these? I've added some clarifications – feel free to shed further light!
Note: the translations are fairly direct and therefore most poetic qualities are lost.
Don't judge the dog by its hairs - "don't judge a book by its covers".
Sour, said the fox of the rowanberries - apparently the rowanberries are a derivation of the "sour grapes" from "The Fox and the Grapes" in Aesop's Fables.
Away is good, but at home is best.
Angry cats get scratched skin - "quarrelsome dogs come limping home".
Burnt child shuns the fire.
One who waits for something good, never waits too long - often used by parents on hungry or eager children. At which point, the child will think, 'that's dumb, when you're waiting for something good, it always takes too long to get it!'
There is no bad weather, only bad clothing - chyeah right..!
What is hidden in snow, is revealed at thaw.
If there is room in the heart, there is room for the behind - this one really looses something in translation, it is shorter and rhymes nicely in Swedish. More like, "if there is heart-room there is butt-room", really. The meaning being that you can accommodate more people/guests if you make an effort.
First one to the mill (gets to grind first)... - "first come, first served".
To walk like a cat around hot porridge - this usually refers to talking "around" a topic without getting to the point, because it is a sensitive or intimidating issue. "Beating around the bush", I guess?
No danger on the roof - means there is no harm done, no imminent danger, not to worry. Is this like "Bob's your uncle"? And why the heck would you talk about some uncle named Bob??
A beloved child has many names - someone or something which is popular is often referred to by many different epithets.
Alike children play best - that you get along best with people who are like you, perhaps is the same as "birds of a feather flock together"?
In the shallowest waters swim the ugliest fish - "an ugly fish" usually refers to a suspicious, dishonest and possibly criminal person. I.e. such a person might be found where you don't expect it, near plain sight rather than in the deep and dark waters.A small tuft often overturns a big load - the little hindrances may be fatal.
Don't cross the brook for water - because that would be unnecessary. Don't complicate things.
Don't yell 'hello' until you've crossed the creek - kinda like "don't count your chickens before they're hatched."
Evil gunpowder doesn't easily perish - I never knew the origin of this until now: it is an old etymological misunderstanding of the German phrase "unkraut vergeht nicht", something like "weeds won't go away". Swedes apparently thought "unkraut" sounded more like "ont krut" which translates to evil gunpowder…
Small pots also have ears - even though kids are small, they do hear and understand a lot. The handles on a pot, we call ears, maybe you guys do to.
And my favourite, a modern one:
Lots of talk and little hockey - all talk and no action. Well, really it's 'too much talking and too little shop (doing)', but I like to say hockey. Sports commentators, like car shop dealers, may talk a lot while there's not enough ice hockey being played or cars being repaired. Not that I'm into either, lol.
Thanks for having me!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A FREE short from me, revisiting Nic and Aidan from Sparks Fly.
JAN 01: A huge selection of delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.JAN 02: Why I want to be a Bond villain! by
chrissymunder
.JAN 03: Consider the world of inspiration between 'historical' and 'contemporary' with
stevie_carroll
.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
January 3, 2011
A PLACE WE USED TO LIVE IN...
Welcome today to a fellow Brit, the author
stevie_carroll
, posing an intriguing question about not only WHAT but WHEN fiction is set...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today's guest, Stevie Carroll, was born in England's Steel City, and raised in a village on the boundary of the White and Dark Peaks, nourished by a diet of drama and science fiction from the BBC and ITV, and a diverse range of books, most notably Diane Wynne-Jones and The Women's Press, from the only library in the valley. After this came a university education in Scotland, while writing mostly non-fiction for various underground bisexual publications under various aliases, before creativity was stifled by a decade of day-jobs.
Now based in Hampshire, Stevie has rediscovered the joys of writing fiction, managing to combine thoughts of science fiction, fantasy and mysteries with a day-job in the pharmaceuticals industry and far too many voluntary posts working with young people, with animals and in local politics. The Monitors, in Noble Romance's Echoes of Possibilities is Stevie's first published story, with other longer tales at various stages of development.
BLURB: Stuart is a monitor: a human back-up to the computer controls on a deep space colony transport. Working alone for months at a time, with long periods between shifts spent in cryogenic stasis, his contact with other people is limited to the change-over of shifts, and brief stays on distant planets between jobs. Born blind into a universe where genetic 'abnormalities' are screened out at conception, Stuart has come to see himself as superior to the 'normals' in some respects, but lacking in others that have nothing to do with sight. He dreams of an academic research post, a family and a permanent home, always wondering what woman will love 'a guy like him'.
Claire, deaf since a childhood illness, has broken away from her overprotective family, and wants to see as much of the universe as possible. Having spotted Stuart from afar before joining the ship's crew, she is delighted when their shifts overlap, and is unafraid to demonstrate her attraction to him. The instantaneous, intense chemistry between them breaks down Stuart's inhibitions about sex on duty—and on a first date, at that—but will Claire willingly put her travel plans aside until he's ready to travel with her?
***
The Recent Past: A Place We Used To Live In
Today's topic is those stories that fall into the gap between contemporary and historical fiction.
***
The 20th Century seems to me to have been a time of greater change from decade to decade than any previous era. The decades are each assumed to have their own feel, and even get named accordingly, the Roaring 20's being the first to spring to mind. But in reality times don't change the instant the third digit in the year number goes up by one, and some years have far more of a personality than others.
So why do I write about the recent past? About events that happened within my lifetime? I'm now in the middle of my second novel set during years when I was at school, although in both stories events from the past (before I was born) have immense influence on the characters in their present. I'm writing in the main about characters who are considerably older than I was at that time, so it's not about shirking research. If anything, my research is complicated by a lack of easily obtainable source materials, because the 70's and 80's are only just becoming of interest to historians, and even then what interests historians isn't always what will affect the day-to-day lives of my characters.
Someone else suggested that perhaps I like writing stories with a mystery element set before mobile phones and widespread internet access, because I want to make the investigations more complicated, but I'm not sure that's the case. Before the internet there were more libraries, and more brick-and-mortar bookshops for my characters to conduct research in. Before mobile phones, there were red telephone boxes scattered liberally over the countryside, and it was possible to be naughty and use AA or RAC telephone boxes for other calls, provided one had the correct key.
That does, of course, assume that the bookshop or library had the correct book on its shelves, and that the telephone would be answered by someone with the required information, but doesn't the suspense involved there make for more interesting reading than a protagonist simply wading through pages of Google links?
Part of the fascination comes from being able to use half-remembered cultural references. There's no fear of dating the story the way there would be with a proper contemporary story, but it's possible to write with a nod to contemporary readers. 'See, these people are like you used to be, do you miss it, or do you prefer how things are now?' Then there's the realisation of how far we've come: I've written about 1988, when Section 28 was striking fear into many a queer writer or educator's heart, and my current story flashes back from 1976 to 1966 and earlier, when the law was an even more fearful reality for gay men especially.
Sometimes it was easier back then, of course. Cars could be fixed without needing to be plugged into a computer, and people knew each other's business, making asking questions much easier for the personable detective. Although those same people might be fiercely protective of their neighbour's business when questioned by an outsider they weren't kindly disposed towards. And the villain or anti-hero wanting to change identity could do so with no risk of being unmasked by a computer check.
In summary, life wasn't any easier or harder for the detectives of back then, it was different. That difference is what makes it so much fun to write about other times.
What next? Shall I write primarily about the 1990's or the 1960's? Shall I write another SF story that owes a lot to TV of the 1970s to the 1990s (as I have done with two SF romances so far)? Shall I write an actually contemporary story, using my knowledge of what dates a story to make this one particularly fresh? Or shall I write a 'real' historical story, set 50 or more years ago?
Only time will tell...
***
Happy Birthday, Clare! And thank you for letting me ramble here!
Stevie Carroll: Not Your Usual Boy (or girl) Meets Girl (or boy)!
Author of The Monitors in Echoes of Possibilities .
Online Home at http://stevie-carroll.livejournal.com/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!
Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A huge selection of delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.
JAN 02: Why I want to be a Bond villain! by
chrissymunder
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
stevie_carroll
, posing an intriguing question about not only WHAT but WHEN fiction is set...~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today's guest, Stevie Carroll, was born in England's Steel City, and raised in a village on the boundary of the White and Dark Peaks, nourished by a diet of drama and science fiction from the BBC and ITV, and a diverse range of books, most notably Diane Wynne-Jones and The Women's Press, from the only library in the valley. After this came a university education in Scotland, while writing mostly non-fiction for various underground bisexual publications under various aliases, before creativity was stifled by a decade of day-jobs.
Now based in Hampshire, Stevie has rediscovered the joys of writing fiction, managing to combine thoughts of science fiction, fantasy and mysteries with a day-job in the pharmaceuticals industry and far too many voluntary posts working with young people, with animals and in local politics. The Monitors, in Noble Romance's Echoes of Possibilities is Stevie's first published story, with other longer tales at various stages of development.
BLURB: Stuart is a monitor: a human back-up to the computer controls on a deep space colony transport. Working alone for months at a time, with long periods between shifts spent in cryogenic stasis, his contact with other people is limited to the change-over of shifts, and brief stays on distant planets between jobs. Born blind into a universe where genetic 'abnormalities' are screened out at conception, Stuart has come to see himself as superior to the 'normals' in some respects, but lacking in others that have nothing to do with sight. He dreams of an academic research post, a family and a permanent home, always wondering what woman will love 'a guy like him'.
Claire, deaf since a childhood illness, has broken away from her overprotective family, and wants to see as much of the universe as possible. Having spotted Stuart from afar before joining the ship's crew, she is delighted when their shifts overlap, and is unafraid to demonstrate her attraction to him. The instantaneous, intense chemistry between them breaks down Stuart's inhibitions about sex on duty—and on a first date, at that—but will Claire willingly put her travel plans aside until he's ready to travel with her?
***
The Recent Past: A Place We Used To Live In
Today's topic is those stories that fall into the gap between contemporary and historical fiction.
***
The 20th Century seems to me to have been a time of greater change from decade to decade than any previous era. The decades are each assumed to have their own feel, and even get named accordingly, the Roaring 20's being the first to spring to mind. But in reality times don't change the instant the third digit in the year number goes up by one, and some years have far more of a personality than others.
So why do I write about the recent past? About events that happened within my lifetime? I'm now in the middle of my second novel set during years when I was at school, although in both stories events from the past (before I was born) have immense influence on the characters in their present. I'm writing in the main about characters who are considerably older than I was at that time, so it's not about shirking research. If anything, my research is complicated by a lack of easily obtainable source materials, because the 70's and 80's are only just becoming of interest to historians, and even then what interests historians isn't always what will affect the day-to-day lives of my characters.Someone else suggested that perhaps I like writing stories with a mystery element set before mobile phones and widespread internet access, because I want to make the investigations more complicated, but I'm not sure that's the case. Before the internet there were more libraries, and more brick-and-mortar bookshops for my characters to conduct research in. Before mobile phones, there were red telephone boxes scattered liberally over the countryside, and it was possible to be naughty and use AA or RAC telephone boxes for other calls, provided one had the correct key.
That does, of course, assume that the bookshop or library had the correct book on its shelves, and that the telephone would be answered by someone with the required information, but doesn't the suspense involved there make for more interesting reading than a protagonist simply wading through pages of Google links?
Part of the fascination comes from being able to use half-remembered cultural references. There's no fear of dating the story the way there would be with a proper contemporary story, but it's possible to write with a nod to contemporary readers. 'See, these people are like you used to be, do you miss it, or do you prefer how things are now?' Then there's the realisation of how far we've come: I've written about 1988, when Section 28 was striking fear into many a queer writer or educator's heart, and my current story flashes back from 1976 to 1966 and earlier, when the law was an even more fearful reality for gay men especially.
Sometimes it was easier back then, of course. Cars could be fixed without needing to be plugged into a computer, and people knew each other's business, making asking questions much easier for the personable detective. Although those same people might be fiercely protective of their neighbour's business when questioned by an outsider they weren't kindly disposed towards. And the villain or anti-hero wanting to change identity could do so with no risk of being unmasked by a computer check.
In summary, life wasn't any easier or harder for the detectives of back then, it was different. That difference is what makes it so much fun to write about other times.
What next? Shall I write primarily about the 1990's or the 1960's? Shall I write another SF story that owes a lot to TV of the 1970s to the 1990s (as I have done with two SF romances so far)? Shall I write an actually contemporary story, using my knowledge of what dates a story to make this one particularly fresh? Or shall I write a 'real' historical story, set 50 or more years ago?
Only time will tell...
***
Happy Birthday, Clare! And thank you for letting me ramble here!
Stevie Carroll: Not Your Usual Boy (or girl) Meets Girl (or boy)!
Author of The Monitors in Echoes of Possibilities .
Online Home at http://stevie-carroll.livejournal.com/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A huge selection of delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.JAN 02: Why I want to be a Bond villain! by
chrissymunder
.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
January 2, 2011
MORE FREE BOOKS to greet the New Year...
In the FANTASTIC finale to the
Desert Island Keepers
end of year GIVEAWAY, they are offering packages of books, both M/M and M/F, to be won by anyone who comments on the post.
And you have until JAN 8 to stake your claim!
All the details are on the link, get on over there!! You've got to be in it to win it, as they say :).
The M/M package includes both print and ebooks, including a print copy of 72 Hours.
The M/F package includes ALL print copies of the following:
♥
And you have until JAN 8 to stake your claim!
All the details are on the link, get on over there!! You've got to be in it to win it, as they say :).
The M/M package includes both print and ebooks, including a print copy of 72 Hours.
The M/F package includes ALL print copies of the following:
♥
THE NAME'S MUNDER, CHRISSY MUNDER...
A real treat for me - a chance to welcome the excellent author
chrissymunder
to my blog :). And on her own merits this time, rather than trying to hold sensible sway against my last-minute ramblings during our monthly
Clare and Chrissy Chats
.
The joke in Chrissy Munder's family is that she was born with a book in her hand. Even now, you'll never find her without a book or seven scattered about. Forced to become a practicing realist in an effort to combat her tendency to dream, her many years of travel and a diverse assortment of careers have taken her across most of the United States and shown her that there are two things you can never have enough of: love and laughter.
All Chrissy's publications can be found at her links as below, or at her Author Page at Dreamspinner Press .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I grow up I want to be a James Bond Movie Villain . . . or, at least write like one.
Why you might ask? Well, despite what the lovely Ms. London may tell you it's more than my avid devotion to Robert Shaw and his engrossing turn as Donald "Red" Grant in the movie From Russia with Love.
It's repeatability.
While perhaps not the most concise word choice, it aptly describes the interesting phenomenon that occurs in our household every holiday. Perhaps it happens at yours as well. Forget the turkey, gifts, or the tenuous camaraderie between family members better left unseen more than once a year. Our favorite part of the long holiday weekends?
The annual watching of the James Bond Movie Marathon.
It doesn't matter we've seen every single movie more than thirty times apiece. It makes no difference that most of the time the hosting television station will hack them up with an ever-increasing number of commercials. Or that we have the uncut versions on the shelf in both VHS and DVD format. (Note: here's a fun drinking game best played only once per movie – everyone watching has to drink a shot for each new commercial during the break).
Why are we so enthralled by these movies? As much as we love each of the actors who portray James Bond and the gadgets are fun, it's the villains and their henchmen, unique, individual, and unforgettable who draw us back time and time again.
If we are fortunate during a holiday weekend out of 250 available stations of programming we'll be able to enjoy multiple football games and three networks running concurrent Bond movies. Toss in a couch and our beast of a cat and truly, all is well in our world.
During a recent online discussion I received an unexpected comment from a reader regarding my novel, Drive Me Home . She wanted to let me know that while it may not have been the usual type of story she picked up, she was quickly sucked in by the characters and couldn't wait to find out how it ended.
Once I completed my fist-pumping Score! dance across the basement, I thanked her for letting me know and mentioned how glad I was she liked Eric's story. To my surprise she emailed back to say not only did she enjoy it, but she also placed it in her "To Be Re-Read Collection".
At that moment I felt exalted to the ranks of Rosa Klebb, Oddjob, Jaws, and Nick Nack. And that feeling gave hope that perhaps, one day if I work hard; I might aspire to dodge the heels of the ultimate Bond villain, Francisco Scaramanga. Third nipple and all.
Do you have a favorite Bond Movie Villain? Are you a card-carrying member of the Connery camp or are you a Q watcher? What brings you back to these movies time and time again, and does that same draw apply to your favorite reading material?
To learn more about Chrissy and her work:
Website: http://www.chrissymunder.com
Blog: http://chrissymunder.livejournal.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/chrissymunder
Twitter: http://twitter.com/ChrissyMunder
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!
Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A huge selection of delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
chrissymunder
to my blog :). And on her own merits this time, rather than trying to hold sensible sway against my last-minute ramblings during our monthly
Clare and Chrissy Chats
.The joke in Chrissy Munder's family is that she was born with a book in her hand. Even now, you'll never find her without a book or seven scattered about. Forced to become a practicing realist in an effort to combat her tendency to dream, her many years of travel and a diverse assortment of careers have taken her across most of the United States and shown her that there are two things you can never have enough of: love and laughter.
All Chrissy's publications can be found at her links as below, or at her Author Page at Dreamspinner Press .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I grow up I want to be a James Bond Movie Villain . . . or, at least write like one.
Why you might ask? Well, despite what the lovely Ms. London may tell you it's more than my avid devotion to Robert Shaw and his engrossing turn as Donald "Red" Grant in the movie From Russia with Love.
It's repeatability.
While perhaps not the most concise word choice, it aptly describes the interesting phenomenon that occurs in our household every holiday. Perhaps it happens at yours as well. Forget the turkey, gifts, or the tenuous camaraderie between family members better left unseen more than once a year. Our favorite part of the long holiday weekends?
The annual watching of the James Bond Movie Marathon.
It doesn't matter we've seen every single movie more than thirty times apiece. It makes no difference that most of the time the hosting television station will hack them up with an ever-increasing number of commercials. Or that we have the uncut versions on the shelf in both VHS and DVD format. (Note: here's a fun drinking game best played only once per movie – everyone watching has to drink a shot for each new commercial during the break).
Why are we so enthralled by these movies? As much as we love each of the actors who portray James Bond and the gadgets are fun, it's the villains and their henchmen, unique, individual, and unforgettable who draw us back time and time again.
If we are fortunate during a holiday weekend out of 250 available stations of programming we'll be able to enjoy multiple football games and three networks running concurrent Bond movies. Toss in a couch and our beast of a cat and truly, all is well in our world.
During a recent online discussion I received an unexpected comment from a reader regarding my novel, Drive Me Home . She wanted to let me know that while it may not have been the usual type of story she picked up, she was quickly sucked in by the characters and couldn't wait to find out how it ended.
Once I completed my fist-pumping Score! dance across the basement, I thanked her for letting me know and mentioned how glad I was she liked Eric's story. To my surprise she emailed back to say not only did she enjoy it, but she also placed it in her "To Be Re-Read Collection".
At that moment I felt exalted to the ranks of Rosa Klebb, Oddjob, Jaws, and Nick Nack. And that feeling gave hope that perhaps, one day if I work hard; I might aspire to dodge the heels of the ultimate Bond villain, Francisco Scaramanga. Third nipple and all.
Do you have a favorite Bond Movie Villain? Are you a card-carrying member of the Connery camp or are you a Q watcher? What brings you back to these movies time and time again, and does that same draw apply to your favorite reading material?
To learn more about Chrissy and her work:
Website: http://www.chrissymunder.com
Blog: http://chrissymunder.livejournal.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/chrissymunder
Twitter: http://twitter.com/ChrissyMunder
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND JUST FOR FUN, A FICTION PROMPT CALL...!!Like to stretch your writing fingers after Christmas' excesses? Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and write something for the visitors this month. It can be anything from a flashfic 3 sentences to a drabble of 100 or so, or even more. Any genre, any theme, any rating, any character(s). Maybe ones you already love, maybe the chance to try on a new character for size.
Depending on how many (if any!) contributions we get, I'll post them during the month or all in the last week. Just send them in to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and we'll go from there :).
♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Follow this month with Clare - and the goodies so far:
JAN 01: A huge selection of delicious m/m icons from
luscious_words
.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
Want to join in but missed the original call? Email me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk and I'll happily find you a space ♥
NOTE: most pictures chosen by me and credited where known, others may be used without direct permission, please contact me with any queries/concerns.
January 1, 2011
SMALL BUT TOTALLY DELICIOUS ART...
Welcome today to
luscious_words
- The virtual home of Layla Aaron, Welshman's wifey, Bolly fangirl, Erotic wordsmith - all in one
Layla has a wonderful way of welcoming us all into the New Year by sharing a selection of her fabulous, award-winning, icons.
Clare sez: Some may be non-worksafe, but all are GORGEOUS!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sooo, I signed up to help Clare ring in the New Year with a few icons I made. Little did she know that I would go crazy and create huge tables of icons to share with her friends. I have included icons of my favorite Bollywood and Hollywood actors, along with some of my favorite male models. But I didn't stop there, I have sexy sportsmen, sexy kinksters, and best of all, lots of couples illustrating how hot and sexy love can be.
A Taste of Eye Candy1234
5678
Bollywood Actors That Rock My World1234
5678
9101112
13141516
17181920
21222324
25262728
29303132
33343536
37383940
Other Actors That Rock My World41424344
45464748
49505152
53545556
Models That Rock My World57585960
61626364
65666768
Love is Sexy69707172
73747576
77787980
81828384
85868788
8990
Send Me One of these Sexy Angels91929394
95969798
Such a Tease!99100101102
103104105106
107108109110
111112
Sportsmen Go Sexy113114115116
117118
That Touch of Kink119120121122
123124125126
Random Smokin' Hawt Men127128129130
131132133134
135136137138
139140141142
Generated by Malionette's Icon Table Generator
Artist's Note: If you see one you like, snag away. Please credit me if you adopt. Enjoy!
Icon Legend:
1-8 – Ajay Devgan; 9-16 – Shahrukh Khan; 17-20 – Shahid Kapoor; 21-24 – Aamir Khan; 25-30 – Hrithik Roshan; 31-32 – Abhishek Bachchan; 33 – Kunal Kapoor; 34 – Uday Chopra; 35-36 – Arjun Rampal; 37-38 – Bobby Deol; 39-40 – John Abraham; 41-42 – Boris Kodjoe; 43 – Dermot Mulroney; 44 – Dwayne Johnson; 45 – Jason Behr; 46 – Joseph Fiennes; 47 – The late Mark Frankel; 48-51 – Prabhas (Tollywood actor); 52 – Raoul Bova; 53-54 – Matt Bomer; 55-56 – Tim DeKay & Matt Bomer; 57 – Cristian Antonio; 58 – Kent Edwards; 59-63 – Mikael Kenta; 64-68 – Tiago Riani; 113 – Evan Lysacek; 118 – Zinedine Zidane; 125-126 – Peter Wingfield
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
luscious_words
- The virtual home of Layla Aaron, Welshman's wifey, Bolly fangirl, Erotic wordsmith - all in oneLayla has a wonderful way of welcoming us all into the New Year by sharing a selection of her fabulous, award-winning, icons.
Clare sez: Some may be non-worksafe, but all are GORGEOUS!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sooo, I signed up to help Clare ring in the New Year with a few icons I made. Little did she know that I would go crazy and create huge tables of icons to share with her friends. I have included icons of my favorite Bollywood and Hollywood actors, along with some of my favorite male models. But I didn't stop there, I have sexy sportsmen, sexy kinksters, and best of all, lots of couples illustrating how hot and sexy love can be.
A Taste of Eye Candy1234
5678Bollywood Actors That Rock My World1234
5678910111213141516171819202122232425262728293031323334353637383940Other Actors That Rock My World41424344
454647484950515253545556Models That Rock My World57585960
6162636465666768Love is Sexy69707172
737475767778798081828384858687888990Send Me One of these Sexy Angels91929394
95969798Such a Tease!99100101102
103104105106107108109110111112Sportsmen Go Sexy113114115116
117118That Touch of Kink119120121122
123124125126Random Smokin' Hawt Men127128129130
131132133134135136137138139140141142Generated by Malionette's Icon Table Generator
Artist's Note: If you see one you like, snag away. Please credit me if you adopt. Enjoy!
Icon Legend:
1-8 – Ajay Devgan; 9-16 – Shahrukh Khan; 17-20 – Shahid Kapoor; 21-24 – Aamir Khan; 25-30 – Hrithik Roshan; 31-32 – Abhishek Bachchan; 33 – Kunal Kapoor; 34 – Uday Chopra; 35-36 – Arjun Rampal; 37-38 – Bobby Deol; 39-40 – John Abraham; 41-42 – Boris Kodjoe; 43 – Dermot Mulroney; 44 – Dwayne Johnson; 45 – Jason Behr; 46 – Joseph Fiennes; 47 – The late Mark Frankel; 48-51 – Prabhas (Tollywood actor); 52 – Raoul Bova; 53-54 – Matt Bomer; 55-56 – Tim DeKay & Matt Bomer; 57 – Cristian Antonio; 58 – Kent Edwards; 59-63 – Mikael Kenta; 64-68 – Tiago Riani; 113 – Evan Lysacek; 118 – Zinedine Zidane; 125-126 – Peter Wingfield
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check up on the original post and the Guest Schedule for January HERE.
A NEW YEAR'S FREE READ...
My first contribution to FREE prompt fiction this month...ENJOY!
A Sparks Fly New Year's Resolution
Nic stirred restlessly on his bed under the quilt. The morning light slid across his face, teasing at his flickering eyelids, but he resisted opening them just yet. There was a gentle throbbing at the nape of his neck that he'd come to associate in the past with the morning after a heavy night out. Nic Gerrard, charisma and cachet, cheek by cheek, the tabloids described him. The playboy who plays hard! Or so they used to say, in the past. Nowadays he wasn't found at as many parties as before; had less time for the hangers-on and the hopeful young models. The paparazzi was finding it more familiar – though maybe less scandalous – to report on his business successes. His famous dating agency Sparks; his diversification into lifestyle learning; his recent development of a comprehensive website resource for young adults.
Nic smiled in his half-sleep. And what would the headline be, if they found him here, right now? Though it wasn't like he cared – the tabloid attention was just a lurid dream for him nowadays. He stretched out under the sheets, languorously. He wanted to sleep some more…
But he was too damned hot. The heating in the apartment was on an automatic timer that he never remembered to adjust when he was home. Also, the housekeeping service issued all quilts in a warmer rating as soon as October opened, and they didn't move back to something lighter until May. The down was luxuriously thick, enveloping him, tucking itself under his hips and thighs. When he dreamed, everything happened under a deep fall of snow, or rolled up in cotton candy. Still half-asleep, the thought of something that sweet, soft and thick tickled at his taste buds. The rush of sensual pleasure made his flesh shiver and his cock stir hopefully against his thigh.
He kicked at the edge of the quilt, untangling an arm and a leg from under it. There was a grunt from somewhere near, but the sound barely registered. Nic huffed out a sigh and rolled over on to his belly, flinging an arm out across the bed.
"Hey!" The lump under the covers beside him grunted again, as Nic's arm landed heavily on top of it. Nic tightened his grasp instinctively and felt the human shape wriggle beneath him.
His cock stirred way more than hopefully.
"'S morning," he murmured. After all, he wasn't up to much more intelligent conversation, this early in the day.
"So get up," muttered the man beside him. From the muffled sound of it, he had his face buried in his pillow, but the irritated words were still clear.
Something already is, thought Nic, smirking to himself. His cock swelled gently and he rubbed it against the smooth linen covers, hungrily tracing the shape of the other man's hip. He opened his eyes halfway and he could see the shock of messy dark hair sticking up from under the quilt.
Aidan.
Nic's whole body came alive, the sensation running across his skin like warm goose bumps. "'S you," he whispered, letting his delight spill out into his voice.
"Idiot," muttered the other voice, though it sounded less irritated now. "Of course it's me. Been here all night." Aidan wriggled again, trying to escape from the covers and Nic's grip.
"Hush." Nic moved too, but closer to Aidan's body, pressing against his back. "You don't do this often enough, I'm just checking to make sure."
Aidan made a snorting sound, half way between protest and amusement. "Nic, let me…"
"Don't fight me, Aidan West," Nic grumbled. "I have a brute of a headache over here. Did we have a good time last night?"
Aidan made another sound, this time suspiciously like a chuckle. "You did. Too much champagne. The New Year's Eve staff party for Sparks, remember? Money no object, you said, food and drink for all, you said."
Nic groaned.
"Don't groan. No sympathy. It's self-inflicted. You and Charlie had some drinking game going on."
Nic wrinkled his nose, annoyed at himself. He drank much less nowadays, partly because he was too busy, partly because he'd grown tired of how it got in the way of his concentration and enjoyment of things. Partly, of course, because Aidan hardly drank at all. But he'd been so excited to see how well the company was doing since going public, so keen to pass thanks on to the staff, so astonished to find Aidan beside him, smiling and joining in…
Oh God. Aidan. Smiling. So damned sexy.
Nic groaned again. "Am I remembering right? I did… that?"
"Huh?"
Nic frowned. "Now you're pissing me off. You know damned well what I mean." He nudged his body against Aidan's, more fiercely.
Aidan grunted. "You mean, pushing me into the restroom cubicle at the office and sucking me off?"
Nic felt the shiver all over his body. Maybe it was a wash of shame, maybe it was… arousal. Excitement and amusement flickered to life in his gut. "Did I really?"
"You can't remember?" Aidan shifted under the covers, turning so that Nic could see his profile. He wasn't smiling.
Nic blinked hard and swallowed his grin. "I remember I wanted to. You wanted me to, didn't you? I waited all damned night until people went home and the place was virtually empty." He tried to concentrate on all the details, but Aidan's face was close to his, the skin warm and flushed with sleep. It was all very distracting. "I can remember kneeling on the tiles. I can remember unzipping you. Then I recall laughing and you telling me to shut the hell up or the cleaners would find us. The rest is a bit of a blur…"
"Nic, you're impossible." Aidan pushed down the covers, releasing his upper body, rising up on his elbows as if to challenge Nic. "Do you know how damned unflattering that is?"
Nic leaned forward and kissed him, hard. He pressed his mouth on to Aidan's, quickly capturing the protest. He thrust his tongue in, tasting the sleepy saliva, the slightly dry lips of his lover. One good side-effect of Aidan not drinking or smoking was that he rarely had that stale morning breath.
Like I have. Nic tensed, frowning.
"It's good. You're good." Maybe Aidan guessed what he was thinking. His voice was low, a little rough. "Come here."
His hand tangled into Nic's hair, pulling him closer. Nic's tongue went deeper into his lover's mouth. Aidan rolled over, kicking the sheets off at his feet. His arms met around Nic's body, holding him tightly. Skin touched skin; nerves quivered. Nic's cock swelled to a painful hardness, like an internal switch had suddenly been turned on.
He broke away from Aidan's mouth, panting gently. "Ahh… that's better." He grinned with mischief. "Now I remember a lot more. Like your thighs tensing up when you came, and the echo of that sexy moaning sound in the back of your throat, bouncing off the cubicle walls. You were desperate, I reckon, you nearly pulled out a chunk of my hair, dragging my mouth down over your cock. And it tasted good." He loved the way Aidan's eyes opened wide like that. "Really good. Salty skin, hot come. Dammit, I think I also tasted some of the bubbles from the champagne."
"Bastard. Damned good thing I'm still half asleep." Aidan snorted again, half-laughing, and for a moment they tussled together, the sheets tangling awkwardly around their legs. Then Nic got in a lucky push and rolled Aidan over on to his belly. Aidan wasn't a small man, and was as strong as Nic if not stronger, but Nic loved the feel of his surrender, knowing that Aidan granted him that. Aidan's limbs were spread out underneath him, his hands groping behind his back to grab at Nic, but failing. Nic still felt the caress of Aidan's breath against his jaw, could still taste Aidan's tongue, from when he'd kissed him.
Nic leant over, his knee between Aidan's thighs, his cock pressed against the clenched buttocks. He bit back the whimpering sound that was trying to escape from his mouth. So damned undignified.
"Nic, do it," muttered Aidan, his voice muffled, his face back against the pillow. "Yes."
"God, yes." Nic sighed. He gripped Aidan's hips and pulled them up towards him, the sheets crumpling up underneath them both. Reaching over to the nightstand, he snagged the lube he'd left there. His hands were shaking with excitement. As he squeezed some out on to his palm, the bottle dropped out of his hand on to the mattress beside them. He cursed, half under his breath.
"Nic?" Aidan was gasping underneath him, just as eager.
Nic let out a soft, soothing breath. He ran his hands over Aidan's warm skin, tracing the dips of the muscles in Aidan's buttocks with his thumbs. He sucked a couple of fingers into his mouth, wetting them, then slowly slid a finger into Aidan's ass to prep him. The flesh quivered: the pucker tightened around him and Aidan sucked in a breath. Nic knew he was concentrating on relaxing the muscles.
It was such a damned treat, taking Aidan like this. Although they changed around quite often, it was still more common for Nic to be bottom. Now his cock was heavy and hot, jutting out from his groin, nudging hungrily against Aidan's hip. He wanted to laugh: words caught in his suddenly dry throat. It was like this, every time he and Aidan made love – he found himself thrilled and shocked and ecstatic, all in a strange, consuming mixture.
Aidan jerked his hips up impatiently, signifying he was ready, but Nic was reluctant to rush it. Even so, his body demanded he hurry. The lube slithered between his fingers as he slicked his cock. He tried to warm the cool gel, not wanting to startle Aidan when he fucked him. Not for the first time, he thanked God they didn't need to use condoms any more. It was a fantastic feeling, his cock inside Aidan's ass, though sometimes the excitement made him clumsy, like now, when he reckoned he'd got more lube on his hand than his dick, his palm all slippery and a stray spot of it dribbling up his arm…
"Nic? Too much thinking."
Nic chuckled, took a deep breath and pushed into his lover.
Aidan groaned and the muscles across his back tightened.
Nic halted. "God, I don't…"
"It's fine," Aidan interrupted quickly. He sounded breathless but excited. "Dammit Nic, I'm fine." He reached a hand back and covered one of Nic's, where Nic gripped his hips. "I'm very fine." He dropped his hand back on the mattress to balance the other one and he braced himself.
Nic smiled. He drew back a little, then pushed back into Aidan's ass. They shared a gasp, and Aidan arched up to welcome Nic in deeper.
"Happy New Year," Nic groaned, his words jerking on his out breath. "Hell of a way to celebrate."
Aidan laughed breathlessly. "I don't."
"Huh?"
"Celebrate. Christmas, New Year. Whatever." He gasped. "It's just a day." Pushing back hard against Nic, he started to grind against him. "But this is a hell of way, any day."
Nic laughed raggedly. He leant over Aidan as they rocked together. He couldn't see Aidan's face but he could feel his lover's body molding itself to him, Aidan's movements matching his own rhythm, Aidan's breath panting along with his own. Nic's belly pressed against the small of Aidan's back, the warm skin there softened by sleep and stimulating him with its familiar intimacy.
"Damned right," he whispered in Aidan's ear. "This is good for any day, all year. Every year." The ecstasy was uncoiling in his groin, his nerves tingling with pure delight. Seemed he had less control over himself now he and Aidan were together, rather than more. What was that all about? He smiled to himself, bemused yet happy with it. He slid in and out slowly, but each thrust pushed him in deep, so that Aidan jerked underneath him and his ass clenched around Nic's cock. "Beautiful." Nic barely registered his own words, just knew he needed to express his pleasure somehow. "Soon. God. Hot. I'm… oh God, yes." He knew Aidan would hear his fractured speech and tease him about it later, but he couldn't care less. This was always magnificent, but especially poignant in the morning, when his limbs were relaxed and his libido so eager. The muscles tightened across his belly and a shudder of desire ran down his spine.
Aidan shifted, balancing on one arm again and pumping his cock, gently but firmly. Nic slid a hand down under Aidan's belly but Aidan pushed it back. "Leave me," he grunted. "Just… you. Just for you. I'm…" Then he suddenly tensed up under Nic and cried out. His head jerked back into the crook of Nic's neck, and he climaxed, his ass tightening fiercely around Nic's cock.
Under his hands, Nic felt the muscles of Aidan's torso constricting. He watched his lover's neck stretching and baring, his throat swallowing hard.
"Fuck," Nic whispered, shocked as the wave of enjoyment hit him, too. And he came, his cock swelling even further and his head swimming from the rush. He thrust up hard against Aidan's ass, digging his fingers into Aidan's pale skin, trying to anchor himself as his legs shook and weakened.
They were poised there for a long moment, Aidan's back arched up under Nic's torso, Nic gasping with satisfaction and holding the pair of them clasped together. Then their muscles relaxed and Aidan collapsed down on the bed. Nic rolled off him to the side, dropping on to his back. They lay there, panting shallowly, Nic listening to the slightly hoarser tone of Aidan's breath.
Aidan wriggled over on to his back. "Sticky," he said. He shifted his legs apart and grunted. "Everywhere, dammit."
"Want a cloth? Tissues?" Nic started fumbling on the nightstand.
"No problem. I can shower in a minute. Just makes a mess of the sheets."
"You know, there's –"
"- housekeeping. Yeah, so you keep telling me." Aidan yawned, slowly and comfortably. He reached out a hand and laid it on Nic's thigh. "Maybe not Happy New Year, but good morning."
Nic laughed. Everything's good.
"How's the headache?" Aidan murmured.
Nic marveled at how easy Aidan's tone was, how chilled. "What headache?" He nudged his hip against Aidan's. "Patent that cure and people will give you a million for it."
Aidan snorted. "No good. I keep the secret ingredient to myself. Available only through selected outlets, and only in stores near…"
"Me," Nic whispered, and leaned back over to kiss Aidan.
"Yes." Aidan's tongue flickered into his mouth, Nic could still feel the hunger in his kiss. "Yes."
"Next year, that's what I'll ask for." Nic laughed. "I'll take a couple of boxes."
Aidan's eyes suddenly darkened and he drew back. "You can have anything I have, whenever you want. But there's only what you see. I don't have anything else to offer."
Shit. Nic felt the tension in Aidan's body, the skin warm yet taut against his own. How the hell did he manage to misjudge his jokes quite so spectacularly? Mind you, it wasn't difficult with Aidan. Sometimes, just being with the man made a minefield look like a kid's playground. Hadn't it always been that way? When he first admitted he was attracted to Aidan, it seemed everything he said and did – in fact, everything he was – was wrong, as far as Aidan was concerned. Okay, so a lot of that had come from Aidan's own prejudice. Also, both of them showed some pretty rampant short-sightedness. Neither had been any good at seeking a relationship. Nic smiled to himself, ruefully. He was the guy with the amazing new dating program, yet he'd been the guy who couldn't find anything rewarding for himself. Ironic, eh?
But now…
He ran his hand down Aidan's arm, watching the goose bumps spring up in its wake. Nic knew he was smart and he knew he was successful in many fields, but what good had all that been, faced with Aidan West? Nic had learned a hell of a lot more in the months he and Aidan had been together. Like what? Like how to choose his words with more care than before; to rein in his excessive lifestyle; to remember he had another person to think of, apart from himself. Hell, he wouldn't have it any other way. But wasn't he allowed the occasional moan? It had all been a damned sight harder than most of his corporate duties.
"That wasn't serious, Aidan." He spoke quietly, but firmly. "It wasn't a dig at the gifts thing."
Aidan frowned. "I know. Sorry." His laugh sounded a little forced. "If there is anything you want…"
Nic sighed and rolled back, staring at the ceiling. "We said no gifts at birthdays or holidays, remember? Yeah, we can both afford it, but it's not like either of us needs anything. Besides, you think I'd know what to get you?"
Aidan smiled slowly. "You're the guy who has everything already."
"And you," murmured Nic, "are the guy who never asks for anything. We're both a challenge in the gifts department, aren't we?" He shifted on the mattress and grimaced. "Wet spot, ugh. I tell you, man, I'm taking the shower first."
"Wait a while." Aidan grasped Nic's arm, stopping him from getting up. His whisper in Nic's ear was a strange mix of shyness and provocation. "You see, right now, I know what I'd want to ask for."
"For…?"
"For New Year." Aidan's voice was deep and ragged. "For any time." His hand slid across Nic's torso, the strong palm tracing its way across Nic's ribs, his fingers catching at the nipple. It tightened on contact, the bud swelling instinctively.
"Fuck," Nic breathed, his cock thickening again like it had a greedy will of its own and it wasn't being held back by minor details like previous sexual exhaustion.
"You guessed right." Aidan laughed. "But then, I've always maintained what a very smart man you are, Nic Gerrard."
Meet Nic and Aidan in the original novel at Dreamspinner Press .
♥
A Sparks Fly New Year's ResolutionNic stirred restlessly on his bed under the quilt. The morning light slid across his face, teasing at his flickering eyelids, but he resisted opening them just yet. There was a gentle throbbing at the nape of his neck that he'd come to associate in the past with the morning after a heavy night out. Nic Gerrard, charisma and cachet, cheek by cheek, the tabloids described him. The playboy who plays hard! Or so they used to say, in the past. Nowadays he wasn't found at as many parties as before; had less time for the hangers-on and the hopeful young models. The paparazzi was finding it more familiar – though maybe less scandalous – to report on his business successes. His famous dating agency Sparks; his diversification into lifestyle learning; his recent development of a comprehensive website resource for young adults.
Nic smiled in his half-sleep. And what would the headline be, if they found him here, right now? Though it wasn't like he cared – the tabloid attention was just a lurid dream for him nowadays. He stretched out under the sheets, languorously. He wanted to sleep some more…
But he was too damned hot. The heating in the apartment was on an automatic timer that he never remembered to adjust when he was home. Also, the housekeeping service issued all quilts in a warmer rating as soon as October opened, and they didn't move back to something lighter until May. The down was luxuriously thick, enveloping him, tucking itself under his hips and thighs. When he dreamed, everything happened under a deep fall of snow, or rolled up in cotton candy. Still half-asleep, the thought of something that sweet, soft and thick tickled at his taste buds. The rush of sensual pleasure made his flesh shiver and his cock stir hopefully against his thigh.
He kicked at the edge of the quilt, untangling an arm and a leg from under it. There was a grunt from somewhere near, but the sound barely registered. Nic huffed out a sigh and rolled over on to his belly, flinging an arm out across the bed.
"Hey!" The lump under the covers beside him grunted again, as Nic's arm landed heavily on top of it. Nic tightened his grasp instinctively and felt the human shape wriggle beneath him.
His cock stirred way more than hopefully.
"'S morning," he murmured. After all, he wasn't up to much more intelligent conversation, this early in the day.
"So get up," muttered the man beside him. From the muffled sound of it, he had his face buried in his pillow, but the irritated words were still clear.
Something already is, thought Nic, smirking to himself. His cock swelled gently and he rubbed it against the smooth linen covers, hungrily tracing the shape of the other man's hip. He opened his eyes halfway and he could see the shock of messy dark hair sticking up from under the quilt.
Aidan.
Nic's whole body came alive, the sensation running across his skin like warm goose bumps. "'S you," he whispered, letting his delight spill out into his voice.
"Idiot," muttered the other voice, though it sounded less irritated now. "Of course it's me. Been here all night." Aidan wriggled again, trying to escape from the covers and Nic's grip.
"Hush." Nic moved too, but closer to Aidan's body, pressing against his back. "You don't do this often enough, I'm just checking to make sure."
Aidan made a snorting sound, half way between protest and amusement. "Nic, let me…"
"Don't fight me, Aidan West," Nic grumbled. "I have a brute of a headache over here. Did we have a good time last night?"
Aidan made another sound, this time suspiciously like a chuckle. "You did. Too much champagne. The New Year's Eve staff party for Sparks, remember? Money no object, you said, food and drink for all, you said."
Nic groaned.
"Don't groan. No sympathy. It's self-inflicted. You and Charlie had some drinking game going on."
Nic wrinkled his nose, annoyed at himself. He drank much less nowadays, partly because he was too busy, partly because he'd grown tired of how it got in the way of his concentration and enjoyment of things. Partly, of course, because Aidan hardly drank at all. But he'd been so excited to see how well the company was doing since going public, so keen to pass thanks on to the staff, so astonished to find Aidan beside him, smiling and joining in…
Oh God. Aidan. Smiling. So damned sexy.
Nic groaned again. "Am I remembering right? I did… that?"
"Huh?"
Nic frowned. "Now you're pissing me off. You know damned well what I mean." He nudged his body against Aidan's, more fiercely.
Aidan grunted. "You mean, pushing me into the restroom cubicle at the office and sucking me off?"
Nic felt the shiver all over his body. Maybe it was a wash of shame, maybe it was… arousal. Excitement and amusement flickered to life in his gut. "Did I really?"
"You can't remember?" Aidan shifted under the covers, turning so that Nic could see his profile. He wasn't smiling.
Nic blinked hard and swallowed his grin. "I remember I wanted to. You wanted me to, didn't you? I waited all damned night until people went home and the place was virtually empty." He tried to concentrate on all the details, but Aidan's face was close to his, the skin warm and flushed with sleep. It was all very distracting. "I can remember kneeling on the tiles. I can remember unzipping you. Then I recall laughing and you telling me to shut the hell up or the cleaners would find us. The rest is a bit of a blur…"
"Nic, you're impossible." Aidan pushed down the covers, releasing his upper body, rising up on his elbows as if to challenge Nic. "Do you know how damned unflattering that is?"
Nic leaned forward and kissed him, hard. He pressed his mouth on to Aidan's, quickly capturing the protest. He thrust his tongue in, tasting the sleepy saliva, the slightly dry lips of his lover. One good side-effect of Aidan not drinking or smoking was that he rarely had that stale morning breath.
Like I have. Nic tensed, frowning.
"It's good. You're good." Maybe Aidan guessed what he was thinking. His voice was low, a little rough. "Come here."
His hand tangled into Nic's hair, pulling him closer. Nic's tongue went deeper into his lover's mouth. Aidan rolled over, kicking the sheets off at his feet. His arms met around Nic's body, holding him tightly. Skin touched skin; nerves quivered. Nic's cock swelled to a painful hardness, like an internal switch had suddenly been turned on.
He broke away from Aidan's mouth, panting gently. "Ahh… that's better." He grinned with mischief. "Now I remember a lot more. Like your thighs tensing up when you came, and the echo of that sexy moaning sound in the back of your throat, bouncing off the cubicle walls. You were desperate, I reckon, you nearly pulled out a chunk of my hair, dragging my mouth down over your cock. And it tasted good." He loved the way Aidan's eyes opened wide like that. "Really good. Salty skin, hot come. Dammit, I think I also tasted some of the bubbles from the champagne."
"Bastard. Damned good thing I'm still half asleep." Aidan snorted again, half-laughing, and for a moment they tussled together, the sheets tangling awkwardly around their legs. Then Nic got in a lucky push and rolled Aidan over on to his belly. Aidan wasn't a small man, and was as strong as Nic if not stronger, but Nic loved the feel of his surrender, knowing that Aidan granted him that. Aidan's limbs were spread out underneath him, his hands groping behind his back to grab at Nic, but failing. Nic still felt the caress of Aidan's breath against his jaw, could still taste Aidan's tongue, from when he'd kissed him.
Nic leant over, his knee between Aidan's thighs, his cock pressed against the clenched buttocks. He bit back the whimpering sound that was trying to escape from his mouth. So damned undignified.
"Nic, do it," muttered Aidan, his voice muffled, his face back against the pillow. "Yes."
"God, yes." Nic sighed. He gripped Aidan's hips and pulled them up towards him, the sheets crumpling up underneath them both. Reaching over to the nightstand, he snagged the lube he'd left there. His hands were shaking with excitement. As he squeezed some out on to his palm, the bottle dropped out of his hand on to the mattress beside them. He cursed, half under his breath.
"Nic?" Aidan was gasping underneath him, just as eager.
Nic let out a soft, soothing breath. He ran his hands over Aidan's warm skin, tracing the dips of the muscles in Aidan's buttocks with his thumbs. He sucked a couple of fingers into his mouth, wetting them, then slowly slid a finger into Aidan's ass to prep him. The flesh quivered: the pucker tightened around him and Aidan sucked in a breath. Nic knew he was concentrating on relaxing the muscles.
It was such a damned treat, taking Aidan like this. Although they changed around quite often, it was still more common for Nic to be bottom. Now his cock was heavy and hot, jutting out from his groin, nudging hungrily against Aidan's hip. He wanted to laugh: words caught in his suddenly dry throat. It was like this, every time he and Aidan made love – he found himself thrilled and shocked and ecstatic, all in a strange, consuming mixture.
Aidan jerked his hips up impatiently, signifying he was ready, but Nic was reluctant to rush it. Even so, his body demanded he hurry. The lube slithered between his fingers as he slicked his cock. He tried to warm the cool gel, not wanting to startle Aidan when he fucked him. Not for the first time, he thanked God they didn't need to use condoms any more. It was a fantastic feeling, his cock inside Aidan's ass, though sometimes the excitement made him clumsy, like now, when he reckoned he'd got more lube on his hand than his dick, his palm all slippery and a stray spot of it dribbling up his arm…
"Nic? Too much thinking."
Nic chuckled, took a deep breath and pushed into his lover.
Aidan groaned and the muscles across his back tightened.
Nic halted. "God, I don't…"
"It's fine," Aidan interrupted quickly. He sounded breathless but excited. "Dammit Nic, I'm fine." He reached a hand back and covered one of Nic's, where Nic gripped his hips. "I'm very fine." He dropped his hand back on the mattress to balance the other one and he braced himself.
Nic smiled. He drew back a little, then pushed back into Aidan's ass. They shared a gasp, and Aidan arched up to welcome Nic in deeper.
"Happy New Year," Nic groaned, his words jerking on his out breath. "Hell of a way to celebrate."
Aidan laughed breathlessly. "I don't."
"Huh?"
"Celebrate. Christmas, New Year. Whatever." He gasped. "It's just a day." Pushing back hard against Nic, he started to grind against him. "But this is a hell of way, any day."
Nic laughed raggedly. He leant over Aidan as they rocked together. He couldn't see Aidan's face but he could feel his lover's body molding itself to him, Aidan's movements matching his own rhythm, Aidan's breath panting along with his own. Nic's belly pressed against the small of Aidan's back, the warm skin there softened by sleep and stimulating him with its familiar intimacy.
"Damned right," he whispered in Aidan's ear. "This is good for any day, all year. Every year." The ecstasy was uncoiling in his groin, his nerves tingling with pure delight. Seemed he had less control over himself now he and Aidan were together, rather than more. What was that all about? He smiled to himself, bemused yet happy with it. He slid in and out slowly, but each thrust pushed him in deep, so that Aidan jerked underneath him and his ass clenched around Nic's cock. "Beautiful." Nic barely registered his own words, just knew he needed to express his pleasure somehow. "Soon. God. Hot. I'm… oh God, yes." He knew Aidan would hear his fractured speech and tease him about it later, but he couldn't care less. This was always magnificent, but especially poignant in the morning, when his limbs were relaxed and his libido so eager. The muscles tightened across his belly and a shudder of desire ran down his spine.
Aidan shifted, balancing on one arm again and pumping his cock, gently but firmly. Nic slid a hand down under Aidan's belly but Aidan pushed it back. "Leave me," he grunted. "Just… you. Just for you. I'm…" Then he suddenly tensed up under Nic and cried out. His head jerked back into the crook of Nic's neck, and he climaxed, his ass tightening fiercely around Nic's cock.
Under his hands, Nic felt the muscles of Aidan's torso constricting. He watched his lover's neck stretching and baring, his throat swallowing hard.
"Fuck," Nic whispered, shocked as the wave of enjoyment hit him, too. And he came, his cock swelling even further and his head swimming from the rush. He thrust up hard against Aidan's ass, digging his fingers into Aidan's pale skin, trying to anchor himself as his legs shook and weakened.
They were poised there for a long moment, Aidan's back arched up under Nic's torso, Nic gasping with satisfaction and holding the pair of them clasped together. Then their muscles relaxed and Aidan collapsed down on the bed. Nic rolled off him to the side, dropping on to his back. They lay there, panting shallowly, Nic listening to the slightly hoarser tone of Aidan's breath.
Aidan wriggled over on to his back. "Sticky," he said. He shifted his legs apart and grunted. "Everywhere, dammit."
"Want a cloth? Tissues?" Nic started fumbling on the nightstand.
"No problem. I can shower in a minute. Just makes a mess of the sheets."
"You know, there's –"
"- housekeeping. Yeah, so you keep telling me." Aidan yawned, slowly and comfortably. He reached out a hand and laid it on Nic's thigh. "Maybe not Happy New Year, but good morning."
Nic laughed. Everything's good.
"How's the headache?" Aidan murmured.
Nic marveled at how easy Aidan's tone was, how chilled. "What headache?" He nudged his hip against Aidan's. "Patent that cure and people will give you a million for it."
Aidan snorted. "No good. I keep the secret ingredient to myself. Available only through selected outlets, and only in stores near…"
"Me," Nic whispered, and leaned back over to kiss Aidan.
"Yes." Aidan's tongue flickered into his mouth, Nic could still feel the hunger in his kiss. "Yes."
"Next year, that's what I'll ask for." Nic laughed. "I'll take a couple of boxes."
Aidan's eyes suddenly darkened and he drew back. "You can have anything I have, whenever you want. But there's only what you see. I don't have anything else to offer."
Shit. Nic felt the tension in Aidan's body, the skin warm yet taut against his own. How the hell did he manage to misjudge his jokes quite so spectacularly? Mind you, it wasn't difficult with Aidan. Sometimes, just being with the man made a minefield look like a kid's playground. Hadn't it always been that way? When he first admitted he was attracted to Aidan, it seemed everything he said and did – in fact, everything he was – was wrong, as far as Aidan was concerned. Okay, so a lot of that had come from Aidan's own prejudice. Also, both of them showed some pretty rampant short-sightedness. Neither had been any good at seeking a relationship. Nic smiled to himself, ruefully. He was the guy with the amazing new dating program, yet he'd been the guy who couldn't find anything rewarding for himself. Ironic, eh?
But now…
He ran his hand down Aidan's arm, watching the goose bumps spring up in its wake. Nic knew he was smart and he knew he was successful in many fields, but what good had all that been, faced with Aidan West? Nic had learned a hell of a lot more in the months he and Aidan had been together. Like what? Like how to choose his words with more care than before; to rein in his excessive lifestyle; to remember he had another person to think of, apart from himself. Hell, he wouldn't have it any other way. But wasn't he allowed the occasional moan? It had all been a damned sight harder than most of his corporate duties.
"That wasn't serious, Aidan." He spoke quietly, but firmly. "It wasn't a dig at the gifts thing."
Aidan frowned. "I know. Sorry." His laugh sounded a little forced. "If there is anything you want…"
Nic sighed and rolled back, staring at the ceiling. "We said no gifts at birthdays or holidays, remember? Yeah, we can both afford it, but it's not like either of us needs anything. Besides, you think I'd know what to get you?"
Aidan smiled slowly. "You're the guy who has everything already."
"And you," murmured Nic, "are the guy who never asks for anything. We're both a challenge in the gifts department, aren't we?" He shifted on the mattress and grimaced. "Wet spot, ugh. I tell you, man, I'm taking the shower first."
"Wait a while." Aidan grasped Nic's arm, stopping him from getting up. His whisper in Nic's ear was a strange mix of shyness and provocation. "You see, right now, I know what I'd want to ask for."
"For…?"
"For New Year." Aidan's voice was deep and ragged. "For any time." His hand slid across Nic's torso, the strong palm tracing its way across Nic's ribs, his fingers catching at the nipple. It tightened on contact, the bud swelling instinctively.
"Fuck," Nic breathed, his cock thickening again like it had a greedy will of its own and it wasn't being held back by minor details like previous sexual exhaustion.
"You guessed right." Aidan laughed. "But then, I've always maintained what a very smart man you are, Nic Gerrard."
Meet Nic and Aidan in the original novel at Dreamspinner Press .
♥
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Happy New Year to all, and welcome to my Birthday Blog Month.
Guests every day - I hope! - with their own topic for entertainment, discussion, promotion, whatever they choose.
PLEASE NOTE some of these will be adult in nature.
Please comment whenever and wherever you like. I certainly enjoy all your company and I also want to thank and appreciate the time and effort the guests have contributed to the fun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FICTION PROMPT! CONTRIBUTORS WELCOME!
Take the prompt "A NEW RESOLUTION" and do what you like with it :). A few sentences, a drabble, a short story. Any genre, any theme.
I'll welcome as many snippets as you can come up with. If we have enough, I'll post every week. If we're all a bit too exhausted after Christmas to write much, I'll post a batch at the end. Whatever works!
Send your fiction to me at clarelondon11 AT yahoo.co.uk. Any time!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
December 27, 2010
Elementary my dear Watson...
I just dragged my post-Xmas, over-eaten, under-slept, just-survived-first-trip-to-the-sales body to the keyboard and blogged at
Not Your Usual Suspects
, about the bit I love BEST in murder mysteries.
No, it's not the blood.
Now back to another slice of an outrageously good chocolate cake that Son#2's girlfriend's mother made for us.
I can buy another (larger) pair of jeans in the New Year sales, right?
Hope you're all making the most of the holiday!
♥
No, it's not the blood.
Now back to another slice of an outrageously good chocolate cake that Son#2's girlfriend's mother made for us.
I can buy another (larger) pair of jeans in the New Year sales, right?
Hope you're all making the most of the holiday!
♥
