Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 95

Breaking the law...breaking the law!

I'm stealing blog content today because I am totally swamped. Pun intended since it's raining so much here I'm pretty sure Noah and his two-by-twos are gonna come down our street at any mo'.

Anyhoo, one of my favorite people in Allmyfriendsliveinthecomputerland is Bronwyn Green and she has a nifty interview with author R.A. Evans up today and a giveaway. A giveaway. I love scary books. I shouldn't tell you it's there because you might ruin my chances of winning...but I am nice that way :)

Oh, and if you scare easily (and are a writer), don't read the part about the note cards and writing out of order. It had me shaking in my boots. (okay, flip-flops)

Go here for the whole dealio and drop a comment for a chance to win! (Almost typed wine. I know...you are shocked)

XOXO
Sommer

ah...cool weather...

66 degrees! 66 degrees was the high today. And rain! Fall is in the air. I can feel it coming. Socks and jeans and boots and leaves and the fire pit, hot cider...baking! Like yesterday was hot but I had apples that were going to spoil so...Gluten Free Apple Pie. Yurm. It totally like caramelized on top of a crispy sweet rice flour crust. It was gone before bed. Jeesh.




Today the weather was so cool and I was so excited, I made the boy's favorite (and GF friendly) flourless chocolate cake.



The weather made me feel so cozy I almost forgot that I started the day getting a biopsy on each arm. That is a weird feeling. Being numb but knowing they are cutting you. Blereugh. So...wish me luck! Hopefully they were just funky moles and not nefarious ones. :)

XOXO
S

"I don't mind being the bad guy. Bad guys have bigger guns, don't they? And they cheat..."

A really nice 4 star review of Learning to Drown over at TRR. My little book I almost chucked gets another nice nod from a reviewer.



Many thanks for TRR for taking the time to review.



XOXO

Sommer

*space cadet*

I totally forgot to say...yay! My story RECLAIMING SPRING is set to be in Shanna Germain's upcoming Bound by Lust. The intro is by Alison Tyler (you don't get any dirtier...but it a thoroughly good way) and the searing lineup follows:



BOUND BY LUST TABLE OF CONTENTS



* Reclaiming Spring Sommer Marsden

* Being His Bitch Janine Ashbless

* Spring Training by Donna George Storey

* A Preference for Deference Allison Wonderland

* The Heart of Chaos Rachel Kramer Bussel

* Under the Clock Justine Elyot

* Steps Evan Mora

* Brush Strokes Kristina Wright

* No Sleep Kristina Lloyd

* Crossing the Line Dominic Santi

* A Few Things to Pick Up on Your Way Home Andrea Dale

* Life Lines Nikki Magennis

* Marcelle Alana Noël Voth

* Whippoorwill Teresa Noelle Roberts

* Slave Sister Vida Bailey

* A Beautiful Corpse Craig Sorensen

* Eine Klein Spanking Clarice Clique

* Defining the Terms Sharazade

* Devil's Night Veronica Wilde



Nifty on toast.



XOXO

S

p.s. I filled in the blogs I knew off the top of my head. If you're on the list and would like to be linked, just email me and I'll plug you in. Heh. Plug...

Ah...Duke...

I have shamelessly gotten my kids addicted to Haven, the show based on Stephen King's The Colorado Kid. I had very little hope for the show at first, but it's become quite a Friday night event. Snacks, pillows, blankets and Haven. And that's saying something since I own two teens who tend to hibernate in their rooms. [(I have also sucked them into Warehouse 13, Breakout Kings (boy), Rizolli and Isles (girl), Bones (both), Supernatural (both) and Chopped (girl)--bad, bad mother...)]



Anyhoo, I wanted to find a clip of last night's episode with Nathan dancing. Girl child and I were propping each other up we were laughing so hard. But I had to settle for one of our top ten favorite TV moments...ever. If you watch the show, you'll appreciate it.



And if Duke is giving out hugs in that outfit...I'll totally be at the head of the line.



Happy Saturday.



XOXO

S

have you ever made a sandwich...

so beauteous that it almost made you weep? Almost caused a Dean Winchester sandwich lust moment? I did yesterday. This is a fond remembrance of that sandwich (don't mind the snowman plate in September or my unpainted thumb nail). This here is also my blog today since I'm too incoherent (one word: babysitting) to think of anything better.



Behold...the sammich. The dachshund was very jealous and extremely irate when I did not share.



Don't forget to vote on the free steamy reads below!!



XOXO

Sommer

what'll it be...what'll it be...

I cannot for the life of me tell if this poll will work. LOL. But if it is magically there when I click PUBLISH POST it will stay up for a week. If not...I'll come up with plan B.



Today is September 1....know what that means? In three short months I shall be the big 4-0. Me. OMG. I must come up with a birthday gift to give out on my birthday. I'll get right on that. I smell a birthday contest coming on...



XOXO

Sommer





Tell Me A Story Contest...



The Garden Gate

By Cassie Exline



Friday night, Molly was late getting off work, and her friends had left with the new guy before she'd had a chance to meet him. She made her way across the empty parking lot. A piece of paper fluttered under her wiper blade.



Straight ahead, I'm waiting at the Garden Gate. Can't wait to know you better.



She followed the directions, hurrying toward the alley. The wind picked up as she entered the alley, turning it into a wind tunnel. Her curls danced in the breeze and her skirt flew high. Raindrops splashed. Thunder echoed. She walked faster. Ahead she saw the gate between two buildings. The wind whipped. A drenching rain poured down.



Head down, she hurried on until she reached the gate. Her fingers slipped on the wet latch. Thunder pounded. Lightning streaked, illuminating a tiny garden beyond.



"Allow me," said a male voice. He wore a dark cloak, and when she was through the gate, he drew her in. "I'll keep you dry," he said.



Beneath the cloak, aromas of musk and sex filled Molly's nostrils. She huddled closer to the man's warmth. Her belly felt the brush of his bulge. He moaned. He pressed her against the wooden slats of the gate and claimed her lips. His fingers explored. He lifted her skirt and with a growl ripped away her panties. His zipper snicked. Her heart thudded. She wrapped a leg around his waist. He entered her hard. His hands cupped her bare bottom, lifted, and his thrusts went deeper. She gasped. The gate creaked and groaned as he slammed into her.



The storm continued to rage. Her orgasm took her breath away. He continued to fuck her. She clung to him, feeling the power of his embrace. His breathing was raspy and erratic. She sucked his earlobe and he exploded. Warmth flooded her.



"That was so good," she murmured. "You're so good, even if you didn't keep me dry."



He chuckled beneath the cloak, then drew it off and kissed her hard. "I'm so glad I decided to use the back way tonight."



"And I'm glad you left me the note." Her fingers glided across his hardening cock. "But where are the others?"



"What others?"



"From the office. They said I had to meet the new guy. Your note said to meet at the garden gate."



"The Garden Gate is a new club that just opened. I put flyers everywhere."



"Flyer? But it read like a letter."



"Instead of the usual rhetoric, I used a personal spin." His full lips smiled. "I'm glad it worked."



"But... So you're not the new guy?"



"I'm your new guy."



"Pleased to meet you," she said. Her fingers wrapped around his dick. She stroked.



His fingers entered her pussy and pumped. "Bend over," he said, "I want inside you." He held her hips and pounded against her butt.



She gripped the posts and shoved backward. He moaned. She groaned. Their climax rattled down the gate.





Reunited by Kiki Howell



A worn gate called to Alina like a siren. In avoidance, her gaze traveled to where the sun glistened off the rust-colored bricks and white paint of the two buildings framing the passageway. The air was thick with the promise of the energy contained there. A place memory awaited her.



Being an empath, these residual hauntings were a way of life. She felt compelled to touch the chipping gray paint, so what happened on this spot some time ago would play for her like a movie clip. She gave in, if only to stop the sensation of being choked, of her very life being in peril if she didn't.



As her trembling fingers caressed the decorative post cap, waves of energy washed over her, overwhelming her with emotions and images. In her vision, the rain beat down, creating a small river over the cobbled ground, lapping at the feet of the couple who stood before her.



"We have so little time," whispered the woman, who looked so much like Alina she could've been a sister save for the period clothing.



"We've discussed this much. They're coming for me. There's no sense running, my love. Men, death will part us."



"Why won't you let me use my magick to save you? Please," she begged. While her tears were invisible with the rain on her face, Alina felt each one being shed.



No magick! This is my fate. I fear for my family should I alter it."



He hushed her by crushing his lips against hers as he pulled her to his body. Alina felt the weight of him and of his passion, along with the sensation of dying from a loss which hadn't even happened yet.



He pushed the woman up against the wet bricks, lifting her skirt. With her garters exposed, Alina's eyes were drawn to the tan of his hand juxtaposed to the creamy-white of her thigh. His fingers dug into her flesh for a second. Fiddling with his own garments, she saw his heavy erection spring free and abruptly enter the woman's folds.



Alina's inner walls pulsed. The woman chanted and cried out. The man's pants fell. His hard, rounded ass clenched and released.



"Stop the spell now!" he yelled, still trusting. He lifted her leg higher, and Alina could see his balls against her ass, he was buried so far inside her.



She cried, "Only ensuring…our spirits will meet again…in another life…until then…I will miss you…"



His growl echoed hers. Their bodies shuttered, and their dual climax stole Alina's breath until she felt faint.



A voice came from behind her, "Excuse me."



Sun replaced rain as she turned, the fire raging through her stomach searing her lungs.



"You alright?" said a man who looked like the twin brother of the man she'd watched fuck her look-a-like. Only, he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt tight enough to show the hills and valleys of his chest.



She nodded.



"Do I know you?" he whispered.





The Alley . . . the Gate



by W. S. Peters, Sr.



The gate stood before me. Like so many gates i have encountered in my life time it stood between me and the visa, the passage which i wished to enter . . . the alley. When i close my eyes and apply this metaphor begging for life i clearly get it. Her name . . . did not matter, but she had gates, plenty of them. There were some which were Mental, some spiritual, but gates just the same. The one i concerned my self with was that which stood betwixt me and what i imagined lie beyond such inhibiting characteristics she embodied. Yes, i wanted to go beyond that gateway of her panties. I wanted to make holly passage into her alley where here secretive passions secreted flavors of the unknown which beckoned me forth. Should i use force? . . . nah. Should i employ my wit? Was there a lock. What type was it . . . was it keyed or a combination. Either way i would not be deterred, for what lay beyond intrigued me. My imagination began to run away with my rationale. I became consumed by the denial. I imagined her Silken Gate moist at the crotch and i became unhinged. My simple thoughts were to reach forth and caress the spaces in places that would entice her gate to open of it's own volition. Finger now coated with the juices of wantonness, i oiled her hinges . . . that was it. The gate finally gave way, and i nobly pushed forth, and entered that sacred alley of my desires . . . beyond the silken gate. The Alley . . .the Gate



Untitled

by Jo



Taylor rolled her over onto her back on the rug on a cold, grey day in Suburbia. He held her wrists by her side and dropped his head to her sternum and she was struck with the sudden memory of the time he had lowered her into a square of sunlight that had heated the bare boards of his first apartment.



He'd lain her down in that patch of warmth and light and kissed her neck, and kissed her lips and she had looked into the sun with her eyes closed against its glare and all of the inside of her had lit up, flared red-orange and glowed.



She wriggled an arm free and slid her fingers into his hair as he reached her nipples, cradled his head. His hand slid up her skirt, moving inside her panties. When he stroked her and pushed his fingers into her heat, she knew the gold light was blooming behind his closed eyes again too.



And slowly, on the wall outside their front room, a golden square bloomed, filled up, as if illuminated by the couple and their coupling, inside.



Untitled

by t'Sade





"May I sit down?" Her breath fogged in the winter afternoon as she gestured to the snow-crusted bench.



"Sure." What else could I say?



She sat down, but said nothing. She opened a lunch bag, pulled out a sandwich, and ate in silence.



I drank the soup from my thermos and stared into the tiny gap between two buildings on the far side of the street.



She left without a word, but came back the next day. It wasn't until Thursday that she introduced herself. "Caitlin."



"Sam."



Then, no other conversation for a week until... "What are you doing?" She gestured to the garden I stare at every lunch. "What's down there?"



"You don't want to know. You'll think I'm a pervert."



"I already do," she smiled.



I didn't answer for another week, the first of February. "Last August, I was walking down the street and I saw..." I gestured to the trapezoid of sunlight streaming through a two-story brownstone at the corner of the block. "And... I saw the shadow of a woman with the most perfect breasts in the world."



Caitlin didn't come back the next day.



-



"May I sit down?" It was May and the rain drizzled off Caitlin's umbrella.



Completely surprised, I nodded and made room. She sat down in the middle and pulled out her lunch.

"How are they perfect?"



I knew what she was talking about, but I couldn't answer until Tuesday. "She had tiny nipples on the two sweetest mounds begging for attention."



"Do you want to bite them?"



"I didn't know," I lied since I thought about it daily.



She repeated her question the next day and I finally answered. "Yes, I want to nip right on the tip, then circle around with my tongue."



A day of silence.



"Think she likes them being smacked?"



"I wouldn't hit her!"



"No, playful smack. Just a bat?"



I never thought about it. By Monday, it was part of my fantasies. "Yes."



"I bet she likes to be spanked," she murmured.



By Thursday, I desperately wanted to spank the mystery woman.



-



It went like that for months. By June, we spent our lunches like that. We came up with erotic things I wanted to do to her. Suck on her, fuck her, spank her. Two semi-strangers bonding over my fantasies of a woman I never met.



"Want an ice cream?" She pointed to an musical truck down the street. "My treat." She patted her side, then frowned. "Oh, I forgot my purse. Let me get it."



She got up and crossed the street, leaving her lunch behind. I watched as she walked up to the brownstone of my obsessions. I turned to the garden wall with desperate hope and anticipation. A second later, I saw her. The woman with perfect breasts silhouetted on the bricks as she picked up her purse.

you still have time!

To write a short story to go with my strange vacation picture. :) Go here for full details (please post flash in the comments section and I will approve). August 31st (let's say midnight) is the cut off.



XOXO

Sommer

Update:

Alive. But incoherent. So very tired but we fared better than a lot of our family and friends. Lots of them are still without power. Hoping for a good night's sleep tonight and then plan to deliver some nice cooked dinners to those still w/o power.



Hope you weathered Irene well if you had the misfortune to make her acquaintance.



Logical well-worded blog to come in the near future.



XOXO

Sommer

free end of the world...I mean hurricane...read

This is an oldie but a lovely. A favorite. If I'm not mistaken I also put it in my first collection LUCKY 13. But don't quote me on that.



I figured I'd give you something to read before your power goes out! LOL. Stay safe, people.



XOXO

S

p.s. I've come back to post the WARNING that this story involves pegging. So if you are a sensitive reader who might be offended by topic, look away! look. away.



My Will

by Sommer Marsden

*originally appeared at Clean Sheets



This isn't about his will anymore. It was in the beginning. I can't help but smile as I slide on the harness and play the tail of the leather through the buckle. Can't help but chuckle as I cinch it tightly across the swell of my hips, making sure it isn't too loose at the top where my waist is smaller.



I can't help but shiver as I run my hand along my cock. That's right, my cock. Tonight I have one; I get to see what it feels like to wield the power of this tool attached to my body.



I get to feel what it is to thrust and push and rut inside him. To enter him, to slide home and ride waves of pleasure that I get to create. I know it isn't really a part of me, but the thought of what I can do with it is enough to set my nerves tingling and dancing. Make my nipples hard. Start a steamy slow emission from my cunt. It might as well be a part of me, because the pleasure has already started.



When I walk toward him, I ignore the sway of my naked breasts. They don't count in this equation. I watch his eyes drink me in. He notices my breasts and the new cock clutched in my hand, fondling it as if I can actually feel the nerve endings firing pleasure into my groin. Actually, I can. Built into the cup that cradles my mound is a nice little nub that rubs my clit each time I jack my new tool.



I smile and his eyes go wide. I'm not sure why but my guess is that this new smile of mine is a little unnerving.



Good.



"Hands and knees, Matthew." The words growl out of me before I even realize I'm going to say them. I'm stroking my cock and that nub is rubbing my own little nub and I shiver again.



He gets on his hands and knees, a position I am very familiar with. One I love. I love seeing him in it, too. The power courses through me and lights me up on the inside.



"Open your mouth."



Those big brown eyes grow bigger. The lashes stand out against his pale skin. His mouth opens, but he looks uncertain, and as I come closer, my lovely cock standing out in front of me, he clamps his lips back together.



That's fine. I can play.



I push myself forward, knees butting the bottom of the bed. His head is right there. His mouth a tight seam. His eyes uncertain. I will exercise my will. And it's fine, because deep, deep down it's really his will, too. He stood over my shoulder as I clicked all the colorful buttons on the Web site. He pointed and read and laughed right along with me. He chose the cock I now brandish. It was his choice. And now it is mine to do with what I please. Despite the fear in his eyes and the tight line of his mouth, I am giving him what he wants. Something he really wants. I know it. He knows it. He is just uncertain at the newness of it.



I have been there. I have done that.



"Come on and open that pretty mouth," I whisper and slide my hands into his dark brown hair.



My pale fingers getting lost in the chocolate color. I grab a handful, careful to not be too hard. I brush the blunt tip of my new body part against his pale pink lips and push just a little. I watch him weaken. Watch his mouth relax. I drink in the sight of his lips parting for me and my rod. I watch the realistic bulbous head disappear behind the petal pink, watch the flash of his white teeth against the flesh-colored rubber. This wasn't in the script he plotted but that's okay. I want him to know. I want him to know what it's like to open your mouth wide to a stiff erection. To suck it deep and feel it bang the back of your throat. To fight the gag reflex and yet relish the steely suede in the wet hollow of your mouth. I watch as he finds out, and I shudder as each thrust bangs my eager clit. I fuck his mouth and sigh as the little blips of pleasure grow bigger and bloom into a bud of orgasm.



Not yet. I don't want to come this way, so I ease up. I want to come while I'm fucking his ass. I want to come forcing myself into him while he lurches forward on hands and knees. I want to grip his slim hips and bite into the skin with my fingers. I want to do all the things to him that he does to me. The things that get me off. I want him to know firsthand what it's like to be fucked so hard you're scooted across the bed until your forehead hits the headboard. I ease up a little more.



He's into it now. Not just mimicking what he's seen me do. No. He is really there, my beautiful Matthew. Running his tongue over my cock, playing it along the distended veins, ringing the bulbous head with the rigid tip of his tongue. I sigh. My cock has no pleasure sensors but I feel each gentle, eager stroke all the way to my core. I watch and I let him do what he's doing. With each gulp of his mouth over the phallus it grows slicker and wetter, until it glistens in the low light with his spit.



"Turn around now, baby," I say and my breath has that jittery catch in it that I have heard so many times from my lovers. That skittery tone that says, I just can't wait a minute longer.



He turns for me, baring his ass, arching his back -- and I am in awe. So this is what it feels like to have someone open for you. To have someone welcome you into their body. To offer you the chance to penetrate the human suit they wear.



I get on my knees and inch forward on the bed, unused to, but relishing, the cock that precedes me. Eager and ever-rigid, it scoots forward ahead of me as if seeking out the dark hot recesses of his body. I want to pinch my nipples. I want to because I know the sensation will shoot straight to my cunt. It's possible I would even come right at that instant. But I don't. That's not part of this. It will have to wait.



I grab the lube that I left lying on the bed and slick my finger. I drench it.



I have no interest in hurting Matthew. He has always gone to great pains to not hurt me. I want him to like this. He wanted this and I want him to want it again. I know already that I want it again. I slide my finger into his ass. This is nothing new. Not scary. He's relaxed and it slides right in. I watch the first knuckle and then the second knuckle disappear until my hand is flush against his cheeks. I pull back a little and add a second. Repeat the process. Watch my digits disappear into the depths of him. I'm breathing hard and fast now. I had no idea. No idea what it was to watch. To see.



I recall every time he has ass-fucked me and whispered to me, "God, Stephanie, I wish you could see this. I wish you could see how fucking amazing it is."



I never understood that. Now I do. The urge to pull my fingers out and shove my new, hard cock in is nearly overwhelming. I want to see it being swallowed by his body. Want to see it fade into him like a magic trick. But I temper myself because I need to go slow. I know this and I will behave. How many times had he been patient beyond measure with me? Gentle when he wanted to be rough? Gone slow when he wanted to pound into me? Probably too many to count. I breathe in deep and work a third finger into him.



He's moaning now. Letting me probe his ass with my fingers. I hear his words slip out of my mouth. "That's it, baby. Does that feel good?"



He's in my role and he does what I always do. He nods, eyes closed, arching back against me. That sizzle of power and want and control shoots through my being and I close my eyes, too, just for a moment.



"Are you ready?" I ask, 'cause I know for damn sure that I am.



Another nod, another moan, and he pushes back against me harder. I pull my hand back and watch my finger reappear. Watch the raspberry ringlet of his asshole give up the first knuckles, the second, the fingertips. Now I'm the one that's moaning.



I grab the lube and smear my cock with it. Drench it. It's the only way to go. The least pain, the most pleasure. It's that first pinch-and-sting of entry that you must ride out and give yourself up to. I know this well, so I am generous. I use almost all the contents of the cute little bottle.



"Okay, take a deep breath and relax," I say so softly I can hardly hear myself. "You have to just relax into it, Matthew. And then it will feel good. I promise."



He nods again and his posture is just a touch more rigid than before. Nothing too bad. I push the tip of the dildo against his puckered hole. I watch him stiffen at the near intrusion.



"Relax," I remind him and I see him try.



I push, ever so slowly, taking my time. The head is almost in and he clenches up. Closes up like a night-blooming flower when the sun breaks the clouds.



"Relax," I say again and reach forward and under him. I take his hard cock in my hand and stroke him until he loosens and sags under me. Then I push forward and know I have entered him. I'm still.



"Stephanie?"



I stroke his cock some more and stay right there. Just the head of me inside of him. "Shh. If we give you a moment, you'll relax all the way. And then it will be good." I stroke harder and he moans under me. I let the pleasure of my touch loosen him up.



Again, I know. I have been on his end. I have been the one receiving and I know how this all works.



I feel him go lax and I'm good. I release his cock and he groans a little. A sad little groan. I almost laugh. And then my hands are firmly on his ass cheeks and I am thrusting. Each thrust shoots a thrill across my clit and I can feel my cunt weeping and clenching restlessly.



"Stephanie," he gasps, but it's a good sound. Not pain but pleasure.



"I know, I know."



I'm chanting almost mindlessly. I start to fuck him in earnest. That hard rubber nub sending me up higher and higher as I watch, fascinated, the beautiful rod sliding in and out of his ass.



His body is gulping me in, letting me out. It's amazing and magical. And now I understand why he wishes I could see it. I understand what it's like to enter someone, to really enter them. To get lost in them and take them and give to them. I understand.



I give him a good slap on his ass cheek and he bucks under me, the sudden stinging pain only serving to enhance his pleasure. I know what this is like, as well. I stroke, stroke, stroke into him and then smack him again. He cries out and I can tell that he's close. I'm close. I'm right there, my thrusting is grinding that rubber pebble against my clit, and the reality of what I'm doing has my pussy nearly in spasms.



He's scooting forward, I'm ramming into him hard, mesmerized by the sight of the slick cock I wear plunging into his ass.



I hear him panting and see him try to balance on one hand to stroke his own hard cock. But he can't balance, so he submits to me, braced on his forearms with his head on the bed while I fuck him. The final stroke of the rubber nodule slides along my clit like a tiny hard tongue and I start to come. Faster I thrust and each thrust propels me higher, faster, spreading the fire of my orgasm under my skin. I bend low, breasts mashed against his trembling back and keep fucking him.



I grab his cock and pump. I sink my teeth into his shoulder, hard, and he lets loose under me, bucking with the intensity of pleasure mingled with pain.



His come coats my hand and drips off my fingers. I pound into him a few more times and come, again. Lost in the taking of him.



Surrendering to my will.