K.C. Cave's Blog, page 2
May 28, 2016
On sale: The Other Hole, anal erotica
The Other Hole, anal erotica by K.C. Cave, only .99. E-Read Erotica Reviews: "...a refreshing and very dark and nasty look at why this unofficial orifice is what it is, what it means to a relationship, and why and how it should be used for maximum effect." Follow me on Book Sprout to find out about my next release and future deals: https://booksproutapp.com/author/493/...
May 23, 2016
Location, location, location
No, I didn’t get a real estate license. It’s a fun query from Food for Thought Friday (https://foodforthoughtfriday.wordpres...
Is there a location that you have never had sex in/at but you would love to try it?
A car? cinema? outdoors? the beach? a church?
Do you think it will ever happen? What has stopped you doing it so far?
By “sex,” I’m going to assume they mean sex between two people, not masturbating. It’s a distinction that’s important to me.
That’s because I masturbate a lot. And with the aid of modern technology (a strap-on butterfly vibrator with a remote), I can masturbate (discretely, of course) virtually anywhere in public. Think parks, coffee bars, on walks and hikes (where it’s not possible to undress), while driving, at the mall. I’ve developed a routine where I tease myself mercilessly, flicking the remote on and off, and then find a relatively private spot to bring myself to completion. Wicked fun!
Masturbating in public relieves (among other things) the urge to fuck in off-the-wall places. Yeah, I still think about it, though. I’ve been rummaging around in my mind, trying to come up with a place that would be real turn-on to fuck a lover.
Let’s start with the list above. A car? Please, I’m an American (with a nod to our neighbors to the north, also Americans, I’ll specify that I live in the U.S.). All adolescent sex (or nearly all) takes place in cars.
Cinema? Finger-fucking and blow jobs at the movies are another aspect of growing up in the U.S. And let’s not forget drive-in movies, which, far as I know, are unique to the U.S. I’ve definitely indulged in PIV (penis in vagina) sex at a drive-in. Not lately, though.
Outdoors? Repeatedly, often, can’t do it enough, love to feel the wind on my bare ass.
The beach? Nope. Sand.
A church? Raised Catholic, I have a serious sacrilegious streak, so you’d think it’s a natural. I guess the trauma of my upbringing (not sexual abuse, but definitely spiritual abuse) makes churches such a turn-off that the thought of fucking on a church pew or on an alter does nothing for me.
So what’s that leave?
Public bathroom sex. I’ve masturbated in public restrooms a lot (in a stall usually, once or twice at the sink watching myself in the mirror), but haven’t done it with another person.
Being an erotica writer, I’ve taken that fantasy and worked the hell out of it, though. Like this: A lunch between two women at a white tablecloth eatery, they’re planning a weekend escape of nonstop lesbian sex and debauchery. Over-heated and excited, the women rendezvous in the ladies room for a quickie.
It’s the lead to my erotic short, The XXX Weekends (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B011GXO9Q0).
Melanie had closed her eyes. Tendrils of arousal blossomed in the pit of her belly. Heat spread across her chest and down her softly sloped stomach. Warmth flooded her abdomen, soaking her panties.
Before she could say anything, the waiter arrived with the bill.
“How exciting is it, Melanie? Tell me.”
“I’m soaked.”
Junie craned her neck to survey the dining room and leaned back in her chair. “Go to the ladies room. I’ll follow in two minutes.”
“Junie!”
“We can do this. I know this place. The handicapped stall. Take off those wet panties and wait for me. Don’t argue. Go.”
Melanie started to say something, but stopped. Without a glance toward Junie, she picked up her purse and walked to the ladies room.
Junie checked her phone for messages, found none, and followed her.
Is there a location that you have never had sex in/at but you would love to try it?
A car? cinema? outdoors? the beach? a church?
Do you think it will ever happen? What has stopped you doing it so far?
By “sex,” I’m going to assume they mean sex between two people, not masturbating. It’s a distinction that’s important to me.
That’s because I masturbate a lot. And with the aid of modern technology (a strap-on butterfly vibrator with a remote), I can masturbate (discretely, of course) virtually anywhere in public. Think parks, coffee bars, on walks and hikes (where it’s not possible to undress), while driving, at the mall. I’ve developed a routine where I tease myself mercilessly, flicking the remote on and off, and then find a relatively private spot to bring myself to completion. Wicked fun!
Masturbating in public relieves (among other things) the urge to fuck in off-the-wall places. Yeah, I still think about it, though. I’ve been rummaging around in my mind, trying to come up with a place that would be real turn-on to fuck a lover.
Let’s start with the list above. A car? Please, I’m an American (with a nod to our neighbors to the north, also Americans, I’ll specify that I live in the U.S.). All adolescent sex (or nearly all) takes place in cars.
Cinema? Finger-fucking and blow jobs at the movies are another aspect of growing up in the U.S. And let’s not forget drive-in movies, which, far as I know, are unique to the U.S. I’ve definitely indulged in PIV (penis in vagina) sex at a drive-in. Not lately, though.
Outdoors? Repeatedly, often, can’t do it enough, love to feel the wind on my bare ass.
The beach? Nope. Sand.
A church? Raised Catholic, I have a serious sacrilegious streak, so you’d think it’s a natural. I guess the trauma of my upbringing (not sexual abuse, but definitely spiritual abuse) makes churches such a turn-off that the thought of fucking on a church pew or on an alter does nothing for me.
So what’s that leave?
Public bathroom sex. I’ve masturbated in public restrooms a lot (in a stall usually, once or twice at the sink watching myself in the mirror), but haven’t done it with another person.
Being an erotica writer, I’ve taken that fantasy and worked the hell out of it, though. Like this: A lunch between two women at a white tablecloth eatery, they’re planning a weekend escape of nonstop lesbian sex and debauchery. Over-heated and excited, the women rendezvous in the ladies room for a quickie.
It’s the lead to my erotic short, The XXX Weekends (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B011GXO9Q0).
Melanie had closed her eyes. Tendrils of arousal blossomed in the pit of her belly. Heat spread across her chest and down her softly sloped stomach. Warmth flooded her abdomen, soaking her panties.
Before she could say anything, the waiter arrived with the bill.
“How exciting is it, Melanie? Tell me.”
“I’m soaked.”
Junie craned her neck to survey the dining room and leaned back in her chair. “Go to the ladies room. I’ll follow in two minutes.”
“Junie!”
“We can do this. I know this place. The handicapped stall. Take off those wet panties and wait for me. Don’t argue. Go.”
Melanie started to say something, but stopped. Without a glance toward Junie, she picked up her purse and walked to the ladies room.
Junie checked her phone for messages, found none, and followed her.
May 2, 2016
Reviewed: The Bonobo Way
The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace Through Pleasure by Dr. Susan BlockMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
It could be subtitled, How to Save the World with Sex. Well, why not? What if instead of fighting wars and nuking each other, we fucked our way out of our disagreements and greed? Or, as someone else put it, what's so funny about peace, love and understanding? Aside from that, Dr. Block paints a world of sexual release and relaxation that's eye-opening. As an erotica writer, I'll be mining this book for a long time.
View all my reviews
April 25, 2016
Reviewed: The Other Hole
Yes, that other hole. Here's E-Read Erotica Reviews (http://ereaderotica.com/?p=5859): "When the time comes, we understand why the forbidden is so nasty. Why it is so forbidden. What the meaning is. Why someone so high-class would debase themselves and submit to such a nasty act. What it all means. I love the turnabout as well, there is this point where she turns it around on him, and the entire story flips. He gets to experience the same, and all of a sudden, she owns him. It is a beautiful thing, and then the book drives off the cliff into something so different that my head spins....It is a refreshing and very dark and nasty look at why this unofficial orifice is what it is, what it means to a relationship, and why and how it should be used for maximum effect."
April 22, 2016
Bare down there
Oh, boy! (or girl)–Food4Thought Friday (https://foodforthoughtfriday.wordpres...) wants my take on female genitals!
The most dramatic thing that comes to mind is a huge painting by Ecuadorian master painter Oswaldo Guayasamín depicting the universe emerging from a native woman’s cunt. It makes you think: Hey, everything started with a woman’s pussy. Everything. (The painting is housed in La Capilla del Hombre, the museum in Quito dedicated to Guayasamín’s art.)
On a less dramatic note—actually, what follows is a lot of peeving—this is my chance to rant about two things that drive me up the wall when it comes to women’s reproductive organs (external): shaved pussies and calling the vulva the “vagina.”
First, shaving (or waxing or whatever): Getting past that it’s at the very least inconvenient and, at worst, very painful, removing pubic hair is unhealthy. Google it. Infections. Ingrown hair. Increased chance of STIs. Genital warts. Think.
Plus, it makes women look pre-adolescent. That’s a sick line of thought I’d rather not pursue, but it speaks for itself. Adult women have hair between their legs. Too long? Gets in your girlfriend’s teeth? Trim it. Just, for god’s sake, don’t shave it all off.
Next rant: If you point between your legs and say, “Look at my vagina” or something equally vague and ridiculous, then what do you say when you specifically want to refer to the hole that is your birth canal? “Look at my hole”? Well, sorry to get all clinical here, but you’ve got more than one. There’s also your urethra (for urine and the mystery fluid that squirters emit) and your a-hole. Asshole.
Okay, English can be a shitty language; there’s no good word for female genitalia that doesn’t sound insulting, puerile or clinical. Pussy works for me, but it’s more a process of elimination. Cunt? Only in context. Vulva? Doctor-ish. Pudenda? Even worse (plus no one knows what it means). Yoni? I like that one, kind of New Age-y. Again, a lot of people won’t know it’s Sanskrit for pussy/cunt/vulva. That leaves pussy.
But “vagina”? Puh-leeze.
The most dramatic thing that comes to mind is a huge painting by Ecuadorian master painter Oswaldo Guayasamín depicting the universe emerging from a native woman’s cunt. It makes you think: Hey, everything started with a woman’s pussy. Everything. (The painting is housed in La Capilla del Hombre, the museum in Quito dedicated to Guayasamín’s art.)
On a less dramatic note—actually, what follows is a lot of peeving—this is my chance to rant about two things that drive me up the wall when it comes to women’s reproductive organs (external): shaved pussies and calling the vulva the “vagina.”
First, shaving (or waxing or whatever): Getting past that it’s at the very least inconvenient and, at worst, very painful, removing pubic hair is unhealthy. Google it. Infections. Ingrown hair. Increased chance of STIs. Genital warts. Think.
Plus, it makes women look pre-adolescent. That’s a sick line of thought I’d rather not pursue, but it speaks for itself. Adult women have hair between their legs. Too long? Gets in your girlfriend’s teeth? Trim it. Just, for god’s sake, don’t shave it all off.
Next rant: If you point between your legs and say, “Look at my vagina” or something equally vague and ridiculous, then what do you say when you specifically want to refer to the hole that is your birth canal? “Look at my hole”? Well, sorry to get all clinical here, but you’ve got more than one. There’s also your urethra (for urine and the mystery fluid that squirters emit) and your a-hole. Asshole.
Okay, English can be a shitty language; there’s no good word for female genitalia that doesn’t sound insulting, puerile or clinical. Pussy works for me, but it’s more a process of elimination. Cunt? Only in context. Vulva? Doctor-ish. Pudenda? Even worse (plus no one knows what it means). Yoni? I like that one, kind of New Age-y. Again, a lot of people won’t know it’s Sanskrit for pussy/cunt/vulva. That leaves pussy.
But “vagina”? Puh-leeze.
Nude dining: It's got nothing to do with sex
A restaurant scheduled to open in London in June will be the city's first clothing-optional eating place (London’s first nude restaurant has a waiting list 16,000 names long https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/f..., The Washington Post, April 22).
That's a lot of people who are very eager to take off their clothes before eating dinner. And why not? For one thing, they won't have to worry about what to wear, will they? Despite the many reasons that nude dining makes sense, most Americans won't be able to get past one thing: Nudity is about sex and voyeurism.
Here's what the article says: "...the restaurant is not a bunch of guys trying to create naked dining for attention, but more of a nudist social experiment that aims to give people a space to challenge their assumptions about nudity, modernity and what kind of behavior we consider natural. In essence, [the owner] claims, consuming food in public sans clothing is 'an act of rebellion.'
“'When you get a chance, you take your clothes off,' [the owner] told The Post. “'When you get in bed, you take your clothes off. When you go to the beach or a sauna, you take your clothes off. It’s natural.'” (Note to European guy: When Americans get in bed, they were pajamas. When Americans go to the beach, they wear ridiculous, constricting bathing suits--even little children. And, yes, even in saunas, most Americans don't take off all their clothes, or they at least wrap a towel around their sweaty torsos).
Yep. I've been to a lot of nudist resorts and, trust me, you don't go there to leer at the nude bodies. Oh, you might initially, on the first visit--but it wears off in about a half hour (when you discover that the vast majority of the bodies are not worth leering at, including your own). After the initial thrill/terror passes, you realize it's the experience--the delicious, relaxing and freeing sensation that comes from not wearing clothing in a social setting. Everyone I know who has tried it enjoys nudism immensely.
Meanwhile, though, on this side of the Atlantic, any mention of social nudity (or, really, nudity of any kind) earns you a leer or a wink or some off-the-wall indication that you must be a sex addict or something just because you like taking your clothes off (or gets you in the Washington Post.) Hey, I am a sex addict (or as close as you'll come to finding one--the notion of sex addiction is ridiculous and insulting), and not wearing clothes in a social setting is not about sexual arousal. Nudity, especially outdoors, is very sensuous, for sure. But not sexual.
Nude restaurants, nude cruises, nude bowling, nude hiking, nude resorts, nude beaches, nude housekeeping--can we get past the "nude" thing and just take off our clothes?
That's a lot of people who are very eager to take off their clothes before eating dinner. And why not? For one thing, they won't have to worry about what to wear, will they? Despite the many reasons that nude dining makes sense, most Americans won't be able to get past one thing: Nudity is about sex and voyeurism.
Here's what the article says: "...the restaurant is not a bunch of guys trying to create naked dining for attention, but more of a nudist social experiment that aims to give people a space to challenge their assumptions about nudity, modernity and what kind of behavior we consider natural. In essence, [the owner] claims, consuming food in public sans clothing is 'an act of rebellion.'
“'When you get a chance, you take your clothes off,' [the owner] told The Post. “'When you get in bed, you take your clothes off. When you go to the beach or a sauna, you take your clothes off. It’s natural.'” (Note to European guy: When Americans get in bed, they were pajamas. When Americans go to the beach, they wear ridiculous, constricting bathing suits--even little children. And, yes, even in saunas, most Americans don't take off all their clothes, or they at least wrap a towel around their sweaty torsos).
Yep. I've been to a lot of nudist resorts and, trust me, you don't go there to leer at the nude bodies. Oh, you might initially, on the first visit--but it wears off in about a half hour (when you discover that the vast majority of the bodies are not worth leering at, including your own). After the initial thrill/terror passes, you realize it's the experience--the delicious, relaxing and freeing sensation that comes from not wearing clothing in a social setting. Everyone I know who has tried it enjoys nudism immensely.
Meanwhile, though, on this side of the Atlantic, any mention of social nudity (or, really, nudity of any kind) earns you a leer or a wink or some off-the-wall indication that you must be a sex addict or something just because you like taking your clothes off (or gets you in the Washington Post.) Hey, I am a sex addict (or as close as you'll come to finding one--the notion of sex addiction is ridiculous and insulting), and not wearing clothes in a social setting is not about sexual arousal. Nudity, especially outdoors, is very sensuous, for sure. But not sexual.
Nude restaurants, nude cruises, nude bowling, nude hiking, nude resorts, nude beaches, nude housekeeping--can we get past the "nude" thing and just take off our clothes?
April 11, 2016
20,000 lesbians in the desert
Or, according The Guardian (a U.K. newspaper that treats readers like adults when it comes to sex), 20,000 horny lesbians in the desert at the 26th annual Dinah, a spring break/golfing event that serves as an excuse for lesbians to do what comes naturally ("20,000 lesbians in the desert: welcome to the Dinah, a world without men" http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandsty...).
For five days in Palm Springs, California, there's an alternate universe of gay women celebrating with pool parties, dancing and debauchery.
Debauchery, as in "nobody is here for the golf. No one is here for the DJs, comedians or YouTube stars performing either. They’re here for the girls. Butch, femme, old, young, gold stars, bi, black, white, hardcore, normcore – the Dinah attracts a diverse group. There’s a sense of liberation and a tacit understanding that what happens in Dinah stays in Dinah (unless it ends up on Facebook).
"...Random girls pulling you into their hotel rooms are also pretty standard. One year, there was a minor earthquake in Palm Springs. Debbie, a Dinah veteran who has attended every event since 1991, recalls that half the water splashed out of the pool. Most of the girls were too drunk to realize or care.
"The feeling of permissiveness is compounded by the desert scenery: it looks like there has been some sort of gaypocalypse, and all the straight men and women have died out."
Public nudity? Duh. "...It’s also about scantily clad celebration. Maybe all the clothes got destroyed during the gaypocalypse, because nobody’s wearing much. Several opt for stickers or tape over their nipples instead of bikini tops..."
Yeah, sign me up, even though I don't play golf (not that it matters).
For five days in Palm Springs, California, there's an alternate universe of gay women celebrating with pool parties, dancing and debauchery.
Debauchery, as in "nobody is here for the golf. No one is here for the DJs, comedians or YouTube stars performing either. They’re here for the girls. Butch, femme, old, young, gold stars, bi, black, white, hardcore, normcore – the Dinah attracts a diverse group. There’s a sense of liberation and a tacit understanding that what happens in Dinah stays in Dinah (unless it ends up on Facebook).
"...Random girls pulling you into their hotel rooms are also pretty standard. One year, there was a minor earthquake in Palm Springs. Debbie, a Dinah veteran who has attended every event since 1991, recalls that half the water splashed out of the pool. Most of the girls were too drunk to realize or care.
"The feeling of permissiveness is compounded by the desert scenery: it looks like there has been some sort of gaypocalypse, and all the straight men and women have died out."
Public nudity? Duh. "...It’s also about scantily clad celebration. Maybe all the clothes got destroyed during the gaypocalypse, because nobody’s wearing much. Several opt for stickers or tape over their nipples instead of bikini tops..."
Yeah, sign me up, even though I don't play golf (not that it matters).
April 7, 2016
Maybe I'm not a pervert after all
And why is that? Because what is considered “normal” in sexual activity is changing, according to an article in the Globe and Mail (Canada), Many ‘abnormal’ sexual tastes are neither rare nor unusual, study finds (http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/h...).
“A new study suggests sexual fantasies, urges and behaviours that are often considered abnormal are actually quite common among the general population, raising questions about how psychiatrists and psychologists define what is sexually normal or not,” the article said.
The study reached out to about a thousand residents of Quebec, and found out that about half of the respondents expressed the desire (my emphasis) to engage in what the study called “paraphilic” or anomalous sexual activities. Well, who gets to decide what these activities are? The authors of the study, I guess.
Also, the folks surveyed “desired” to do the naughty (or formerly naughty). Would it be overreaching to say that nearly half of the people in the survey fantasized about (here’s what lead the list): “voyeurism – surreptitiously watching strangers when they are nude, undressing or having sex…fetishism – sexual arousal by an inanimate, non-sexual object; frotteurism – touching or rubbing oneself against a stranger; and masochism – sexual arousal while suffering, being dominated or humiliated.”
If it’s just fantasy (the realm I deal with in my erotica), then this sounds like an awfully tame list to me. The stuff I fantasize about (but seriously doubt I’d ever do) includes fucking the guy who drives my trash truck on my front lawn (he’s really big from tossing trash cans around all day, and black, which I’m not). Then him tossing me over, sodomizing me and releasing his bladder into my rectum.
Whew. I don’t get that fantasy very often, but, boy, it powers a very intense masturbation session.
So, overall, pretty vanilla stuff in that study, don’t you think? For fantasies? Where’s the rope bondage? Pee play? Anal? Femdom and male orgasm denial? Incest? My piss-in-the-ass fantasy? And nothing about gay sex (male or female).
It goes, I think, to the authors’ definition of normal: “interest in genital stimulation or preparatory fondling with phenotypically normal, physically mature, consenting human partners.” Anything else “is not necessarily disordered, but is considered paraphilic or abnormal.”
My score card (not that I was asked) on the anomalous activities in the study:
Voyeurism. I can get off on it (and have), but really don’t go out of my way to watch people fuck (unlike the motel owner profiled in the New Yorker who “studied” (secretly watched) guests for like 15 years in a very elaborate set up).
Exhibitionism, which I don’t do. But I really like outdoor sex. And part of the thrill of taking your clothes off and fucking (or masturbating) outdoors is the danger of getting caught. I’m also a nudist and enjoy people seeing me nude. But it’s in the right context and is not overtly sexual (sensual, sure, but nudism isn’t about sex).
Frotteurism (touching or rubbing oneself against a stranger). New one on me (unless you’re talking about pickup sex). Is this subway sex? Anyway, if it included objects, I might qualify. Things like bedposts, pillows, trees…
Masochism: Yes! Spank me! When I’m close to coming, I like to be slapped in the face–hard. I like to have my genitals smacked. If my ass is bruised the next morning and it hurts to sit, I know I had a good time. I want hickies! But it’s all in a sexual context and, I strongly suspect, pretty mild compared to what the real BDSM crowd gets into.
Sadism: Nope. I’ll spank in a return-the-favor way. But it doesn’t get me off.
Pedophilia: Nope. Puh-leeze.
Fetishism (sexual arousal by an inanimate, non-sexual object). Hmm. Do dildos and vibrators count? I suspect not. Shoes? Toaster ovens? Nope.
Transvestism: I’m more about getting my clothes off than dressing up like the other sex.
Being Canadian and sensible , one of the authors made this comment about the concept of “abnormality” in sex: “If people are happy, if everybody is consenting, I don’t know why it should be abnormal, especially in 2016.”
Right. For the really abnormal stuff, fantasize (and read erotica!)
“A new study suggests sexual fantasies, urges and behaviours that are often considered abnormal are actually quite common among the general population, raising questions about how psychiatrists and psychologists define what is sexually normal or not,” the article said.
The study reached out to about a thousand residents of Quebec, and found out that about half of the respondents expressed the desire (my emphasis) to engage in what the study called “paraphilic” or anomalous sexual activities. Well, who gets to decide what these activities are? The authors of the study, I guess.
Also, the folks surveyed “desired” to do the naughty (or formerly naughty). Would it be overreaching to say that nearly half of the people in the survey fantasized about (here’s what lead the list): “voyeurism – surreptitiously watching strangers when they are nude, undressing or having sex…fetishism – sexual arousal by an inanimate, non-sexual object; frotteurism – touching or rubbing oneself against a stranger; and masochism – sexual arousal while suffering, being dominated or humiliated.”
If it’s just fantasy (the realm I deal with in my erotica), then this sounds like an awfully tame list to me. The stuff I fantasize about (but seriously doubt I’d ever do) includes fucking the guy who drives my trash truck on my front lawn (he’s really big from tossing trash cans around all day, and black, which I’m not). Then him tossing me over, sodomizing me and releasing his bladder into my rectum.
Whew. I don’t get that fantasy very often, but, boy, it powers a very intense masturbation session.
So, overall, pretty vanilla stuff in that study, don’t you think? For fantasies? Where’s the rope bondage? Pee play? Anal? Femdom and male orgasm denial? Incest? My piss-in-the-ass fantasy? And nothing about gay sex (male or female).
It goes, I think, to the authors’ definition of normal: “interest in genital stimulation or preparatory fondling with phenotypically normal, physically mature, consenting human partners.” Anything else “is not necessarily disordered, but is considered paraphilic or abnormal.”
My score card (not that I was asked) on the anomalous activities in the study:
Voyeurism. I can get off on it (and have), but really don’t go out of my way to watch people fuck (unlike the motel owner profiled in the New Yorker who “studied” (secretly watched) guests for like 15 years in a very elaborate set up).
Exhibitionism, which I don’t do. But I really like outdoor sex. And part of the thrill of taking your clothes off and fucking (or masturbating) outdoors is the danger of getting caught. I’m also a nudist and enjoy people seeing me nude. But it’s in the right context and is not overtly sexual (sensual, sure, but nudism isn’t about sex).
Frotteurism (touching or rubbing oneself against a stranger). New one on me (unless you’re talking about pickup sex). Is this subway sex? Anyway, if it included objects, I might qualify. Things like bedposts, pillows, trees…
Masochism: Yes! Spank me! When I’m close to coming, I like to be slapped in the face–hard. I like to have my genitals smacked. If my ass is bruised the next morning and it hurts to sit, I know I had a good time. I want hickies! But it’s all in a sexual context and, I strongly suspect, pretty mild compared to what the real BDSM crowd gets into.
Sadism: Nope. I’ll spank in a return-the-favor way. But it doesn’t get me off.
Pedophilia: Nope. Puh-leeze.
Fetishism (sexual arousal by an inanimate, non-sexual object). Hmm. Do dildos and vibrators count? I suspect not. Shoes? Toaster ovens? Nope.
Transvestism: I’m more about getting my clothes off than dressing up like the other sex.
Being Canadian and sensible , one of the authors made this comment about the concept of “abnormality” in sex: “If people are happy, if everybody is consenting, I don’t know why it should be abnormal, especially in 2016.”
Right. For the really abnormal stuff, fantasize (and read erotica!)
April 4, 2016
Review: Her First Time/5 First Time Erotica Stories by Ava Sterling
This fun collection of sexy stories features pretty young things getting it on for the first time, and in often imaginative ways. For example, the virgin in The Invisible Girl's First Time has the annoying problem of turning invisible when aroused. Sneaking into a hunk's bedroom at night and technically raping him (he never wakes up) is her imaginative initiation into the wonders of sex. My favorite is Lesbian Poker Night, where the game is strip poker and a group of young women find out they don't need a guy for mind-blowing sex. The stories take a while to develop and get to the sexy parts, but the payoff is always worth the wait. Sterling is a good writer who knows how to push the right buttons (and always uses lube).
March 5, 2016
LaBrava by Elmore Leonard
LaBrava by Elmore LeonardMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Main character a typically smart guy, this time a retired Secret Service agent who falls in with a retired movie star in Miami. The usual slimy, stupid crooks of a particular South Florida variety show up, along with a cast of entertaining side characters. The dialog is laugh-out-loud funny, per usual with Leonard. The movie star provides a nice overlay of old Hollywood and insider stuff. I'm thinking the retired star, still incredibly hot and very smart, as a kind of Lisbeth Scott, a sultry bad girl who never got the guy. The plot mirrors one of her movies, natch. A very fun, smart read. Still kicking myself for not getting into Leonard sooner.
View all my reviews
K.C. Cave's Blog
- K.C. Cave's profile
- 15 followers
K.C. Cave isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
