Noche Buena

Feliz

Riendo

Roger Waters Makes Conan's Dream Come True! ROCK!! @ TeamCoco.com

Roger Waters Makes Conan's Dream Come True! ROCK!! @ TeamCoco.com

this makes 100 posts...

couldn't had been anything better , if you ask me...

Love The Pink Floyd

Riendo

p.s

He is part of my dna

http://electronicintifada.net/v2/article4831.shtml

Christmas Company Dinner 2010

I no longer feel caged.

Riendo

On Finding Jon's Porn

On Finding Jon's Porn

Description


On Finding Jon's Porn originally appeared in "C is for Co-Eds." This naughty, anal sex spanking extravaganza has been revised and expanded, and is now nearly double in size. Adults only. This story sizzles.

Excerpt:


I’d read about stuff like this before. But I’d never done it. You can’t ask a college boy to go down on your asshole. Most of them hardly know their way around a pussy yet. But Jon knew. Jon knew everything. He wet one of his fingers and slipped it up inside of me. I squeezed down on him immediately, unable to stop myself. Jon reached under my body to play with my clit as he fingered my rear hole. I thought I was going to come right then, but Jon told me not to. He said, “You better wait for me, baby. I don’t want you getting a head start.”



“But…” I stammered. I could hardly breathe, let alone think, let alone obey.



“If you come right now, I’m going to tan your bottom with my belt before I fuck your asshole.”



Talk about conflicting messages. I came on the threat.



“Ah, kid. I wish you hadn’t of done that. I never go back on my word.”



How had he become this man? All year long, he’d been Jon. My latte buddy. The boy whose room I snuck into at night to talk about dates from hell. He’d been out with the sorority girls, the ones who wore sherbet-colored eyeshadow and filled the hallway with the scent of hairspray.



But now he was different. Now he was stripped to his jeans, and he was pulling the belt from the loops, and I was almost crying already.




By Alison Tyler
Photo Riendo

In Line-- By Robin Michelle, Photo Riendo

In Line




I watched as she absentmindedly tucked her hair behind her ear. Moving her thumb to her mouth, she bit it.



Immediate wet throbbing. Ice-hard nipples.



Desiring her lips on mine, drawing my breath from my body. Imagining her suckling, biting my nipples. Breath catching, back arching in response. Tangling my hands in her hair as she moves, sliding her tongue into my folds, teasing me with lips and tongue and teeth and fingers 'til I am moaning, writhing uncontrollably. "Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuck," as my orgasm bursts forth, flooding...



"Next. Miss, you're next. What can I do for you today? Miss...?"



By Robin Michelle
Photo Riendo
 
 
p.s
 
nice to have Ms Alison Tyler back!

I missed her...

On Finding Jon's Porn...

Coming Soon!

By Alison Tyler
Photo Riendo

The Feng Shui Fuck - All Romance Ebooks

The Feng Shui Fuck - All Romance Ebooks

Description


The Feng Shui Fuck originally appeared in the collection Naughty Stories from A to Z, Volume 3. One reviewer stated: This "feng-shui tale shows you, in delicious detail, how dramatically a life can be turned around when the wrong person exits and the right person enters."

Excerpt:


"What else?”



“Get rid of the cartoon art.” She pointed to my copy of a Lichtenstein from an exhibition I saw at MOMA. “It’s juvenile.”



My brow furrowed. I could feel the wrinkles. I love that print. Again, my voice low and steady, I asked, “What would I put instead?”



“Landscapes. Warm sunsets. Grassy fields. Or a picture of two cranes. They mate for life, you know. And they live to be over 100. They represent infinity.”



“Didn’t know that,” I told her, thinking, Yeah. Cranes. That’s exactly what I’m putting up on my wall. Two fucking birds. What did I look like? A member of the ornithologists’ society? What she was describing sounded like a scene from a dentist’s office.



“You should buy two red candles, to symbolize our love. Plus, you should get rid of the clutter under your bed, and add flesh-colored lampshades to make the room look naked.”



I wanted to look naked, and I wanted her to look naked. I didn’t give two shits about what my room looked like. What was it going to do? Get all dolled up and fuck the bathroom?



“At least, your bed has the headboard against the wall.”



“That’s good?” I asked, glad that I was finally hearing some positive news.



“Yes,” she nodded. “A bed with the back to the wall is in a commanding position.”

Oh, now I got it. My bedroom didn’t want to be the subservient one. It wanted the control spot. I liked that. I had a dom bedroom—and a crazy fucking girlfriend

By Alison Tyler

Photo Riendo

Torn available in Paperback

Torn available in paperback.
buy buy buy NOW!

Torn cover by Riendo

By
Alison Tyler
Jax Baynard
Sommer Marsden
Thomas Roche
Sophia Valenti

Christmas 2010

Christmas is coming,
In the spirit.

Riendo

Alice and Jgo

Muslim done dolls,
hand made, by me.
artwork done by me.

Happy Birthday Alice.
to many more happy years w/ your other and to many more birthdays!

Riendo

The Ying & Yang of Riendo

Photo taken by James Goatcher.

do it,
do what you love,
don't let anything or anyone put you down.
if it's meant to be, it will happen.

Riendo

anjelica-rivera.blogspot.com

Check me out!
An old friend of mine was thinking of me.
I feel special...

Riendo

thanks angie

Keep Your Chin Up

Life Is Beautiful


by Riendo

Happy Birthday To Me!

Yesterday was my birthday.
26 years old....

Riendo

Bondage on a Budget by Alison Tyler and Dante Davidson

Description


Bondage on a Budget is a hot short story collection featuring couples who use regular odds and ends from around the house as sexy toys. From ice cubes to wallet chains, vanity sets to quarters, these 69 sizzling tales are sure to spice up your love life!



"A very playful and sensual read...a great sexy romp." -- Playtime Magazine



69 delightful vignettes... -- Gary Meyer, Clean Sheets



A clever collection of 69 erotic short stories. -- Carolyn Vakesh, The SandMUtopian Guardian #31



After these sultry chapters, you'll never look at a quarter the same way again! -- Playgirl Magazine



Here is a book that will kick down roadblocks and start you off right. Destined to be a classic. -- Heather L. Seggel, EIDOS, V10, Issue #38

 
 
Excerpt:


After admiring my cock in the mirror, and admonishing myself not to get too infatuated with the look of it, I slid into the outfit. First, I put on a tight white tank bra that pressed my small breasts flat to my chest. I pulled the top over my head and then tried on the pants. I’m a slim 5’8”, but I’d had the pants altered, and they fit perfectly, showing off the newfound bulge in front and my fine, round ass in the back. As I dressed, I imagined Alex’s hands unbuttoning the fly, his trembling fingers revealing the molded cock concealed beneath. One that was destined to introduce his virgin ass to the as yet unexperienced pleasures of life as a submissive.



I completed my outfit with a pair of beat-up black Doc Martens. Then I slicked my short blonde hair away from my face and gave myself a final once-over. It was my intention to look the part of a boy, yet retain my feminine side, and I felt as if I’d done a perfect job. Still, I took my time with my finishing touches, sure that Alex was squirming in our room, growing harder ever second. He’s unused to being out of control, tends to take charge in our relationship—at least, in the bedroom portion of it. I wondered what he was thinking about, whether his heart was beating extra fast from that sexy combination of anticipation and fear.



With more swagger to my stride than normal, I walked out of the bathroom and down the hall to our bedroom. Alex likes to tease me, says that I always walk as if I’m going somewhere, even when we’re out for a leisurely stroll. Now, I definitely had a purpose. Each step brought me further into my character. Long ago, Alex had confessed to being attracted to one of the cooks who had worked on a boat with him. He claimed the boy had looked like me, was of a slighter build than the rest of the burly sailors, with fairly feminine features and a “divine ass.” So, now I was Jake Miller, heading into our room to turn a forbidden fantasy into a reality.



I opened the door slowly, seeing that Alex had dimmed the lights and lit the two ivory candles on our dresser. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a pair of gray cotton boxers, his eyes lowered, his body shaking slightly. I’d never seen him nervous before, never imagined he could appear vulnerable. Now that he was, I had a momentary lapse back into myself, wanting to go on my hands and knees in front of him, take his face in my hands, croon soothing words. But I’d fail him if I did.



Instead, I approached solidly, grabbed his chin in my hand and forced him to meet my eyes. He didn’t want to. He raised his face but kept his eyes lowered, staring at my feet.



“Look at me,” I said, my voice low and as gruffly masculine as possible. He shivered again, but this time he obeyed. “I’ve seen you watching me,” I told him, “seen the way you stare when I walk by. You think about me at night, alone in your bunk, your hand on your cock.”



Alex swallowed hard and nodded. My confidence grew inside of me. I could feel a heat spreading through my chest.



“You work yourself and imagine that I’m fucking you.”



Again, he nodded, his eyes wide. Taking a step closer, I pressed the bulge of my hidden rod directly in front of his mouth.



“You want to taste my cock, don’t you?” I asked, my tone still low, barely louder than a whisper.



“Yeah.”

Photo By Riendo

Halloween 2010

Hope everyone had a great halloween!

By Riendo

Safe By Alison Tyler, Photo Riendo

By Alison Tyler

"Safe" originally appeared in the collection "B is for Bondage." In this BDSM story, a submissive woman is punished at her Dominant's desire. But who really holds the reins in their pain-pleasure relationship? And just how safe does a safeword make you feel?

Excerpt:


He bent down to whisper into my ear, “Choose your safeword.”



This wasn’t anything we’d talked about before. Jack read me so well that I put my trust totally in him. I didn’t ever think I’d want him to stop before he was ready. “It can’t be no,” he continued, “because sometimes no doesn’t mean no.”



I nodded, swallowing hard.



“It can’t be please, or stop, or anything that might come to your lips accidentally. You have to think of a special word, and then you have to tell it…”



Of course, I thought he was going to say “to me.” What other words would complete that sentence? But Jack was different. Jack was always three long strides ahead of me.



“You have to tell it to him….”



Jack motioned to a man standing nearby. Someone I hadn’t even noticed yet, my eyes busy roaming the crowd, looking for like-minded subs. This man was dressed for the part of the Dom. Leather pants. Tight black shirt. And a crop in one hand.



Did he know Jack?



Were they friends?



My mind raced faster than ever, whirling with possibilities. Jack owned a place in New York. I knew that. But I hadn’t considered that might mean he was a regular at clubs like this, clubs that catered to the darkest of sexual fantasies.



“Go on, now,” Jack hissed, tossing the handle of the leash to the man. “Make sure you tell him, kid. He won’t stop otherwise.”

photo riendo

Little Bo Peep

Little Bo Peep


by Gary



Little Bo Peep had fallen asleep.



Again.



She was gently woken by John the Woodsman to say she had lost her sheep.



Again.



John said he’d help her look.



So, she gave him a grateful kiss.



Then she was on her knees, head bobbing on cock. Back, forwards, deeper; spade-like hands holding her in a Woodsman’s grip.



She paused. A sound. People approaching?



John heard, covered her ears, pushed further. He came in huge spasms, a thunderous roar, Bo desperately swallowing.



As Johns mist cleared he saw Bo’s sheep returning.



The sheep he’d hidden.

Wagging their tails behind them.
 
 
Photo Riendo

Facebook | Riendo

Facebook Riendo


Awesome !


Riendo

Local Flavor

Local Flavor
by Nocturnal Submission

“You’ve been devouring me from a distance and I don’t even know you.”

“I’m a food critic doing a piece on local flavor.”

“Want a private tasting? Top of the parking garage, 10 minutes. Be late, you’ll miss the 1st course.”

I kept my reservation, she was thoroughly prepared. “Sign says shoes, shirt…no service”, she commanded. I complied with house rules and was blown away by prompt service and total attention to detail.

"Well?” She asked.

“4 stars. How about the full menu?”

“Sorry, no seconds till everyone gets firsts” and she departed as the area’s best kept secret.

By Nocturnal Submission


Photo Riendo

Strands

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Flash Fuck Me: Why?

Flash Fuck Me: Why?

Why?
By @antalianna

The air was thick with smoke that clung to our bodies and tugged at our senses as the musicians wove their stories into our consciousness.

The music surged with my blood and I felt my soul expand to fit my body.

The stranger whose gaze I had met was against me and our movements were one.

Her hands found their way first to my breasts and then to my yearning dampness and I was overtaken by want.

She leaned in as though to catch my lips and I began to climax as she whispered “ Why would you fuck my husband?”



photo by me
riendo

Love not War

Riendo

Gloves

Gloves
by Aurora Hunter

"Leave them on," she said, as he started to remove his driving gloves.

"My gloves?" he asked.

"Yes. If you’re wearing them, then it's the gloves that are touching me, not you. So then it's okay."

"Your game, your rules." he said softly, and traced her arm with his fingers still encased in black leather.

She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes as his hand – no as the glove – stroked her body. He rubbed her nipples, the leather warm and smooth. The rose pink tips puckered in excitement, and a low moan escaped her lips.

Photo Riendo

Flash Fuck-tion: Mind Your Manners

Mind Your Manners
by Miz Angell

His hand grasps my hair; yanks my head back.

“Please.” I whisper.

His teeth sink into my neck. My thighs get soaked. “Please.”

His other hand reaches under my skirt, finding me wet. I bite my lip. He sinks his fingers into me violently.

“Please” I moan.

His tongue licks my lobe, trailing down to my collarbone, his fingers continuing their invasion.

“Please.”

His thumb finds my clit, repeatedly pushing that button. I’m so close to coming.

“Please.” I whimper.

His tongue replaces his thumb. My pulse throbs. My body falls. I shatter.

“Thank you.” He whispers.



Photo Riendo

Flash Fuck-tion, Music her release

MUSIC, HER RELEASE
by Andrea Dale

Front row to see her favorite band. Nobody would think twice about her leather collar.

Except he’d found a new one, with clamps attached. Chains dangled from the collar into her low-cut shirt. People know what a slut she was.

If they didn’t, he’d flip up her skirt to expose the stripes from her caning.

He toyed with the remote to the vibrator stuffed in her, ratcheting up her need to come. Growling in her ear between songs in exquisite detail how she’d be forced to orgasm publicly in front of the entire audience. In front of the band.


Photo Riendo

Subway By The Curator

'Subway'
by The Curator

I’m not pretty, but it doesn’t matter because I smell like sex. It’s rush-hour Monday. I wedge into the most crowded subway car I can find. I choose carefully, forcing my barely concealed musk-colored tits hard against the chest of a Wall-Streeter wearing a light colored, expensive suit. I meet his already smoldering eyes. Silently, I thrust my hips into his instantly hard cock and grind. The train jerks and so does he. I jump off, glancing back to see his shocked face and the dark wetness spreading across the front of his sharply-creased pants.

These flashers do something filthy to my mind. I mean, searching for the photos in Riendo's flickr, and reading the words repeatedly to find a picture that works, together that action puts me in such a dreamy state. I'm ready to fall into the sex and danger and heat and motion of the day.


Photo Riendo

http://flashfuckme.blogspot.com/?zx=9d970b6ec8fd9096

Trollop with a Laptop: Flash Fuck-tion: Silent Images

Trollop with a Laptop: Flash Fuck-tion: Silent Images

Silent Images
Ruby Kiddell

Silent images danced on the wall of the bar.
The thrusting, filling, wetting, spilling close up of a cunt being fucked.

The waitress circulated, beads of condensation trickling down the champagne glasses just as the cum trickled down the legs of the body on the screen.

As the pace on the wall increased, the camera pulled away, slowly exposing more and more of the pliant flesh.

Voice by voice the room quieted, until finally the panting, gasping release of the soundtrack could be heard.

The final close up, a face in orgasm’s bliss.
The waitress had never looked so beautiful.

Photo Riendo

Trollop with a Laptop: Flash Fuck-tion: In the Train

Trollop with a Laptop: Flash Fuck-tion: In the Train

In the train
by Emma Hillman

He was fascinated. He watched her walk past him and couldn't help but admire her swinging ass. It swayed from left to right, her gait smooth despite the high heels she wore.

He was subjugated. He wondered what she looked like underneath her proper business suit. He imagined lacy garters criscrossing her smooth thighs.

He was aroused. The thought of her bent over, her legs spread wide, holding herself open for him, made his cock twitch. He watched her stop in front of the doors and stood up.

"Hi," he said and the rest is now history…

EH says: "I wrote 'In the train' during my commute on my BlackBerry, and then emailed it to myself to make sure I'd still have it. Hey, it worked!" I love that!


photo riendo

Flash Fuck Me

Flash Fuck Me


A new blog by Alison Tyler
w/ sexy stories and photos by me....
thank you :)

riendo

Trollop with a Laptop: Flash Fuck-tion: Breathe

Trollop with a Laptop: Flash Fuck-tion: Breathe


Story by Aisling Weaver
Photo Riendo

Trollop with a Laptop: Flash Fuck Me Again, Baby

Trollop with a Laptop: Flash Fuck Me Again, Baby

Four on the Floor

By Alison Tyler
Photo Riendo

"Four on the Floor," originally published in Best Women's Erotica 2006, features a couple intent on finding their match. They aren't looking for love or romance. They're searching for debauchery, intensity, four on the floor.


Excerpt:
Sam and I followed the duo to their Redwood City apartment, and into their tiny living room, overshadowed by a huge-screen TV and a brown faux-leather sofa. Pamela had her tongue in my asshole before my navy blue sleeveless dress was all the way off, and my mouth was on Andy’s mammoth cock before he could kick off his battered black motorcycle boots.

The TV stayed on the whole time we were there. Muted, but on. We had crazy sex right on the caramel-colored shag rug in front of it, while heavy metal bands played for us in silence. It was like doing it on stage with Guns & Roses. Surreal, but not a turn-off.

I remember a lot of wetness—her mouth, his mouth, her pussy. I remember Sam leaning against the wood-paneled wall at one point in the evening and watching, just watching the three of us entwined, the TV-glow flickering over us, my slim body stretched out between our new lovers. I felt beloved as their fingers stroked me, as they took turns tasting me, splitting my legs as wide as possible and getting in between. I held my arms over my head and Sam bent down and gripped my wrists tight while Pamela licked at me like a pussycat at a saucer of milk.


Buy: BUy: BUY: buy:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-fouronthefloor-453338-144.html

riendo on Etsy

riendo on Etsy


Help an artist out,

Riendo

Torn

Torn#Torn

Torn,
By Jax Baynard,
sommer marsden,
thomas roche,
alison tyler,
sophia valenti

photo by me Riendo

i love you!

To my BFF
Your friendship will keep me going.
ilove you and miss you a whole lot.
.m.

riendo-the worse time of my life...

Same song.
You be the judge , which one is better?

Riendo

riendo-the worse time of my life...

The latest.
I try to do everything i set my mind to.
Even if i'm not cut out for it.

Riendo

Torn

coming soon...!

:)

riendo

Late Bloomer

Late Bloomer

Late Bloomer, by Alison Tyler, originally appeared in Caught Looking. This sexy story features a character who eavesdrops and watches for most of the story and exposes herself only after the story actually ends. 



Excerpt:
Without a thought to what might happen if I got caught, I moved away from the wall, slid silently out of my bedroom, and padded quietly down the hall. As I’d expected, the door to Joe’s room was open. Only a sliver, but enough.

I walked toward the open doorway as softly as I could, but I probably needn’t have bothered. They were busy, consumed by their own actions. They didn’t notice when I made my way right outside his bedroom door, positioning myself so that I could see Nina, ass upwards, and Joe, spanking her hard.

The fact that the door was ajar wasn’t too surprising. Nina was always a proud exhibitionist. At parties, she made sure to be seen kissing the cutest guy center stage, letting him put his hand up her top or down her skirt, closing her eyes as she became the pure definition of ecstasy. She didn’t think being on display made her look like a slut—she thought it made her look wanted. In demand. 

Once, when we were on a double-date together at a drive-in, she actually made love in the back seat with her lucky man of the moment. I held my breath as I stared at the screen through the front window, not seeing the movie at all, captivated instead by the sultry noises coming from the back seat. First the wet sounds of Nina delivering a world-class blow job, slurping sounds punctuated by the moans of her man. Then the undeniable noises of her slipping on his lap and pumping her body until she reached her own personal Nirvana. My date stared straight forward, too, realizing from the start that he was going nowhere with me. Not that he would have wanted to. I was in head-to-toe black, hair in my face, as always. Nina was in a sunburst sundress, low in the back, low in the front.

 There was nothing Nina ever found too revealing.



Good, I thought as I watched Joe’s hand make sweet contact with her sublime ass. Spank her harder. Spank her for me.



By Alison Tyler
Photo Riendo

After Hours

After Hours

"After Hours," by Dante Davidson, originally appeared in the collection Taboo. In her review, Greta Christina wrote:

"After Hours" by Dante Davidson...describes a medical scene between a doctor and a nurse, a gynecological exam with a sexual edge that gradually crosses the line from nasty, forbidden thoughts to nasty, forbidden deeds. Davidson does a remarkable job of conveying how the doctor feels, the line he walks between detached professionalism and intense arousal and invasion.... And Davidson doesn't just get you inside the doctor's head -- he gets you inside the nurse's as well, conveying not just the man's excitement but his awareness of the woman's as well."

Excerpt:
She didn’t know that I was watching her, which made the experience all the more powerful. She thought I was waiting, appropriately, outside in the hall for her to prepare herself. But with the door cracked slightly, I had the perfect view as she took off her bra and placed the underwire contraption with the rest of her clothes. With a gentle motion, she removed her pantyhose, then slid her silky white panties down her lean thighs and then dropped both of these items on top of the skirt and blouse. She stared at the pile of clothing, hesitated a moment, then tucked the panties and bra between the skirt and blouse.

How quaint, I thought to myself. She doesn’t want me to see her panties. Or maybe she doesn’t want me to see what most likely was a very wet spot at the center of them.


By Dante Davidson
Photo: Riendo

James Dean, $1000 Bucks, and a Long Summer Night

James Dean, $1000 Bucks, and a Long Summer Night

This three-way story originally appeared in the collection Taboo. This is an excerpt of the review by Greta Christina:

"James Dean, One Thousand Bucks, and a Long Summer Night" by Emilie Paris starts out as a fairly standard (albeit unusually well-rendered) fantasy about a couple picking up a street hustler for a voyeuristic three-way. But as the story unfolds, the wife changes her mind about what she wants -- and takes charge of the scene, directing it into an area she and her husband hadn't anticipated or even agreed on.

The moment when the wife takes control and shifts the fantasy from the standard "man watching his wife fuck another man" to the rather less commonly-seen "newly dominant wife watching her straight husband get fucked by another man" is a moment that's both unnerving and fiercely exciting.

The story gets across the essence of what makes taboos hot -- not simply breaking society's rules and boundaries, but breaking your own, with the excitement of genuinely unfamiliar territory that might actually change your life while it's getting you off.


Excerpt:
For the first time of the evening, I got the gratification that I was onto something, because Arthur said, “But, you know, Charlie. Not without a condom—”

I could have laughed. Was that all he was worried about? The solution was inches away. I reached for the box of condoms in the top drawer of my nightstand and I handed one over to Dean. He put it on like a pro, of course. Then I motioned for Arthur, and my hired hand and I watched my husband undress, slowly, half-scared, kicking out of his shoes and slacks and casual shirt, then standing, unsure, at the foot of the bed.

“You know men, don’t you?” I asked the boy.

“Yeah—”

“So help him out.”

Dean reached for my husband and spread him on the mattress, and he started to rub Arthur’s shoulders and his back, making my man sigh and moan. And then he motioned for me to hand over the lube, and I did, getting closer, close enough to watch this paid-by-the-night prostitute grease up my husband’s asshole with a healthy supply of lube.

“Charlie—” Arthur moaned, and I knew what he was going to say somehow.

“No fucking way,” I told him. “I’m not leaving.” That was the deal. Arthur had bought me a present, and his only stipulation was that he got to watch. Well, the same fucking rules applied for me, as well. But Arthur didn’t want to play by those rules anymore.

By: by Emilie Paris
Photo: Riendo

A Lesson In Seduction

"A Lesson In Seduction" appeared in the collection "Exposed." Set at the infamous Rainbow on Sunset Boulevard, in this rock and roll fantasy, Nick challenges Samantha to find her voice—to tell him in explicit detail exactly what she wants him to do to her. The perfect tale for any closet exhibitionist. (Or out-of-the-close exhibitionist!)

Excerpt:
This scenario tonight was classic Hollywood, with Nick’s roaming fingers running up and down my arm, and his hot breath against my neck as he continued to tell me how I was the one who was going to seduce him. His hand slid over my breasts and he squeezed each one gently, instantly making my nipples hard through the filmy material of my halter. This evening, I wore a skimpy petal pink top with my faded 501s, and I’d dusted blush between my breasts to deepen the valley and draw Nick’s attention there. My trick had worked. Nick palmed both of my breasts, and I moaned out loud, loving how firmly he touched me. The sound surprised me, and I sat up straight, but I knew that nobody was concerned about the fact that we were canoodling in the booth. Waitresses have seen worse at the Rainbow.

Much, much worse.

I must say here that this scenario wasn’t my style at all. Yes, I may have an extremely dirty mind. In fact, I might have already fucked Nick twelve-thousand times before, all in my head, with my legs spread, fingers, dildo, or shower massager playing over my clit. But I hadn’t told him that, and I didn’t think I could. He had other ideas on the subject entirely. He seemed to believe that I was some sort of she-cat, able to stalk her prey...with words if not actions.

“You tell me,” he said.



By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Not A Voyeur

"Not a Voyeur" originally appeared in the collection "Hide & Seek." Caitlyn insists to her husband Courtney that she is not a voyeur. But when the couple spies a duo fucking across the street, their own secret fetishes become exposed.


Excerpt:
“I’m not a voyeur,” I told my husband Courtney.

“I never said you were,” Courtney murmured from behind the Sports section of the newspaper.

“Really,” I insisted. “I’m not.”

“Why do you keep saying that, Caitlyn?” he asked, sounding part bemused, part annoyed.

“Because of them,” I told him, my voice low.

“Them, who?”

“Those people out there. Fucking.”

Courtney set down his paper. He looked at me with his great green eyes as I pointed out the window, at the apartment across the street, and at the people in the apartment who were screwing each other silly. Without a word, Courtney stood and came to my side, so that we were both pressed against our own window, looking out.
I heard him suck in his breath as he took in the vision.


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Strangers

Strangers

"Strangers" originally appeared in the lesbian short-story collection called Blue Sky Sideways, published by Masquerade Books in 1996.


Excerpt:
I could fix you, I wanted to say. I could make you whole again.

How I wanted to slide one finger into the ringed loop at the zippered neck of her jacket. How I wanted to pull down that zipper and reveal her, knowing somehow that seeing the shell of her skin would wreck me, devour me, consume me. I knew it all—I could visualize how pale her skin would look against the black of her snowsuit, how pink her nipples would be. Wanting to see the chill of the air bring a blushing hue to her all over. Bizarre. Dangerous to have those feelings for a total stranger.

But we weren’t strangers for long.


By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Counterpane

Counterpane

Counterpane features one hotel room and two couples—a m/f and a m/m. How these two couples interact (or don't) sets the scenario for a delicious and decadent romp!

Excerpt:
“Oh, baby. You’re so wet. Look how wet you get when I lick you here.”

Her cheeks burned as shame flooded through her. She couldn’t speak. Ry’s tongue between her cheeks turned up so many different emotions inside of her. Is that why she’d never let him do that before?

He licked her again, then moved back and pressed the ball of his thumb to her asshole. He didn’t push it in, he simply rested his thumb against her. She waited. He didn’t move. She waited another second. He was as still as she was. Finally, Lia couldn’t stand the tease. She was the one to push back, to thrust back, so that his thumb was inside of her and she was panting.

“You want it, don’t you, you little slut,” he said. She loved when he talked to her like that. His accent made her feel exceptionally dirty. She had no idea why.


By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Planes, Trains and Banana-Seat Bicycles

Planes, Trains and Banana-Seat Bicycles originally appeared in the collection "The Mile-High Club."

“Planes, Trains and Banana-Seat Bicycles” doesn’t take to the skies, but there are planes involved. In (Alison Tyler’s) skillful hands, that’s all you’ll need to fly.
—Kathleen Bradean, Erotica Revealed

Alison Tyler flexes her prodigious erotic muscle in “Planes, Trains, and Banana Seat Bicycles. I can dig it.”
—SF Bay Guardian

Excerpt:
Adrien kissed his way down my body. He held onto my waist as he nuzzled the tender skin of my inner thighs, licked me right on the indents of my hips, those ticklish spots, before bringing his mouth to my pussy and suckling my clit. I couldn’t think for a minute, couldn’t worry about this vacation that I emphatically did not want to take.

“Don’t we have a perfectly good bed?” Adrien murmured when he stopped for a breath.

I think I nodded. I might have moaned. All thoughts of air travel were replaced by the journey to orgasm as Adrien began to make those looping circles that I love best, love most of all when he has me bound so that I cannot fight. I have to give in. Who’d fight against pleasure like this? Not me. Not really. But being forced to take the endless rotations of his tongue, of his fingers, being fixed in place while he has his way with me, that nearly makes me see stars.

Which reminded me…

“Sasha says there aren’t any lights anywhere. Nothing but the moon and the stars.”

“Really?” Adrien asked, slipping back up my body to reach for something in our toy drawer. Quickly, he placed a blindfold over my eyes and fastened the strap under my smooth, flat-ironed hair. “With a blindfold on, doesn’t matter if there are lights or not.”

Cuffed

Cuffed features three tales of erotic bondage from Sommer Marsden, Alison Tyler, and Sophia Valenti.

From a reader review:

Alison Tyler begins this trilogy with an exquisite show-and-tell journey down the path of bad girl desires. She is descriptive and graphic in this tale of pretty v. plain, proving that there's more to a person than meets the eye, and that sexual satisfaction isn't always wrapped in the package you expect. It's a hot, nasty story.

Then the always inventive Sommer Marsden chimes in with a totally unexpected tale of an inventive former bad boy who get challenged by his wife. It's a story that I want to leave by the bedside table in hopes that my husband will learn a thing or two. And it makes me wonder how true to life some of Sommer's writing is. The sex is written steamy and sexy, and as always, hits the right (g) spot.

Rounding out this smut-fest is Sophia Valenti with a thigh tingling tale of a good cop gone naughty. It's imaginative and descriptive, with real characters who suck you right into the bedroom.


Adults Only, please. These stories sizzle!


Excerpt:
When the cowboy hit the head, I walked over to the corner booth. I didn’t have a plan, but I also didn’t have a choice. I felt magnetically pulled to this stranger’s side.
“You like the pretty boys?”
I shrugged at the stranger.
“He’s going to be all done in five minutes, and you know it. Preening peacock in his pristine hat. He’s going to want you to adore him, when he doesn’t deserve your attention. Not for a second.”
I looked at the crisp shirt, the old-fashioned watch, the scotch with ice.
Shop teacher? I didn’t think so.
“You don’t even like him. You’re too smart for a sleaze like that. But you know the other tarts in here want him. And that’s making you feel special.”
“What are you? A psychiatrist?”
He laughed. “What you need is a spanking.”
“Oh, you think so?” I asked in my best flippant tone. The cowboy thought I needed a margarita and a massage, after a good long soak in his hot tub under the stars. He’d made noises about kissing every inch of my body, about treating me like a princess, pampering me with his hands and his mouth. I hadn’t confessed that a soft touch did nothing but make me squirm.
“You need to be put over my knee and have that little dress lifted up to your waist. You need your ass turned as red as the slutty outfit you’re wearing.”


By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

No Good Deed

"No Good Deed" originally appeared in the collection "Please, Sir."

One reader review says, "No Good Deed by Alison Tyler was a fun tale of a brat with a little enjoyable twist at the end."

Another states, "Alison Tyler’s *No Good Deed* is a mouth-wateringly hot punishment scenario."

Adults only. Spanking, handcuffs, BDSM.

Excerpt:
Only later in the night, when she’d been talking to another man by the bar, had Killian come up behind her.

“Ready to go, baby?”

Like they were a couple. Intrigued, she’d followed his lead, slid on her coat, let him take her by the wrist. She’d been his ever since.

He’d led her to the car, pressed her up against the hood, got his mouth right close to her ear and whispered, “You flirting?”

The hot sensation of guilt flooded through her. Had she been? Well, yeah. But she’d come to the party a single. Single people could flirt. She tried to explain this to Killian, but the look in his eyes stopped her. Finally, stammering, she’d said, “Yes, I was.”

“Honesty’s always the best policy with me, kid,” he said, nodding. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you a spanking.”


By Alison Tyler
Photo: riendo

The Lindy Shark

"The Lindy Shark" appeared in BWE 2002, The Mammoth Book of Erotica volume 2, and Exposed. In a review of BWE 02, Rachel Kramer Bussel wrote, "'The Lindy Shark'" by Alison Tyler also touch(es) on bitterness and anger, mixed with passion."

Felice Newman wrote, "Alison Tyler is a pioneer of a kind of erotica that's at once arousing and sophisticated."

Excerpt:
With a single tilt of his head, the man let her know that he’d picked her, and she waited for him to arrive at her side. The girls nearby twittered in hopes that he was coming for one of them.

“I’d let him into my nodbox,” one murmured.

A nodbox was a bedroom, and Clara agreed. She’d definitely let this man crease her sheets. But as the women giggled with delight, she wanted to tell them not to concern themselves with their nerves. The man didn’t have eyes for either one.

He was on his way to Clara.

She felt a rush of nervous excitement that started between her legs and flooded outward. It was rare for her to feel so self-conscious. She had a quality to her moves that came from within, a radiance on the floor that couldn’t be taught. This man had it, too. That’s what she’d been drawn to. Dancing could be a form of foreplay. But at most of these swing sessions, there simply wasn’t been anyone she wanted to take to bed.

As a new song began, Lilly Faye and her Fire-Spittin’ Fellas jumping into the groove, the man reached her side. He didn’t say a word, simply put one hand on her waist and steered her onto the floor. This time, she wouldn’t be passed onto someone new. She and her lindy shark would be partnered for the entire song. Knowing this, she took her time checking him out. Up close, he was even more attractive. Those dark liquid eyes, like a silent film star’s, were infinitely expressive. A deep, inky blue, they shined beneath the crystal chandelier. His hands were large, and firm, and they maneuvered her through the moves with expertise, but didn’t roam where they didn’t belong. That was a surprise. Often men took the opportunity to fondle a partner, something Clara generally found distasteful. Now, she realized, she wouldn’t have minded if his hands had wandered down a bit, if he’d tried a little stroking as they glided together.


By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Edit Me

Edit Me

"Edit Me," which first appeared in "D Is for Dress-Up," is a story based on Alison Tyler's experience working on a Weekly Paper in Los Angeles. Tyler says, "Throughout the years, only one of my men was truly interested in fashion—consumed with putting on my clothes as opposed to taking them off. Hunter was my editor on the newspaper, my Pygmalion. He changed my entire sense of style, turning me from goth girl to girl Friday. He was why I had those pencil skirts and white blouses, why I wore my hair the way I did, wore my make-up in the style of his choosing. He is featured in 'Edit Me,' and there are certain items in my wardrobe that I can’t wear without getting wet from memories of him. Of the way he’d tilt his head and take in my whole look, before making some minor persnickety adjustment. It was as important to him what went on my body as what he ultimately took off."

Excerpt:
My panties, newly purchased, perfectly polka dot, were drenched. I squirmed, and he admonished me. “You flush so pretty. It’s lovely with your skin. But you shouldn’t squirm around as if you’re uncomfortable. You should soak it all in when a man tells you secrets. You should learn from what he says.”

Soak. That was a good word. That’s what I did.

“Now ask,” he’d say magnanimously, lifting his emerald green bottle of imported beer to his lips. “Ask whatever you want.”

He was fair in that way, always allowing me to quiz him after the lunchtime lessons. I tried to show him that I was learning, that I’d paid attention and memorized the facts. But I wasn’t used to drinking beer during the day, stolen sips from his bottle when the waiter wasn’t watching since I wasn’t old enough to order my own. My mind felt hazy around the edges, and all I could mumble was, “Did she like it?”

A headshake. A frown. I’d asked the wrong question, and I felt as bad as if he’d put me over his lap and spanked me. No, that’s a lie. Because that’s what I wished he would do. I hated to disappoint him. I wanted to make him proud. This was why I spent hours agonizing the leads in my sentences, the clothes in my closet.

“Did she come?” I asked.

That was better. More in-your-face, which he liked coming from me. I was so desperately quiet, so unusually naive. How’d I get like that? He simply couldn’t fathom. I was no L.A. woman. True. A transplanted San Francisco girl, I couldn’t begin to blend in a world of silicone and faux blondes. With my ebony eyes, cherry-lips and long dark curly hair, I didn’t fit in. Hunter liked that. He wanted me to blush less, but be comfortable more. Confidence, he said, was power.

“Of course, she came.”

And then, to show him that I was advancing, that I was finally catching on, I said in as husky a voice as I could manage, “I would have come, too.”


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

The Super

The Super


"The Super" originally appeared in the collection Master/Slave. The short story features a too-short skirt, a game of fantasy/dress-up, and a fierce spanking.

Excerpt:
He hurried me through the door to the living room, then kicked the door closed and hauled me quickly to the sofa. I saw everything swirling around me. The chocolate leather of the sofa, the bare shiny wood of the floor. He sat down and looked at me, and I shifted uncomfortably before him. I knew better than to sit, knew better than to do anything but wait. Yet waiting was the worst. Waiting and wondering. And hoping.

Of course, hoping—

“Dressed like a naughty little school girl,” he hissed through his teeth. “Dressed in public like that,” he continued, shaking his head now, as if he couldn’t fucking believe it.

I looked down at my feet, head bowed, curls falling free now around my face, and all I could see were my polished loafers and his scuffed work boots, the dark denim blue of his Levis, the wood floor....

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked. “Anything to say in your defense?” and I shook my head no. Immediately, he was standing, his hand around my hair again, my face pulled fiercely back so that I was looking up into his gaze. The way he held my hair hurt now, and I clearly understood the message he was sending me.

“No, Sir—” I said, quickly, but not quickly enough. He had me bent over the side of the sofa in an instant, my skirt roughly pulled up to reveal the lilac rosettes adorning the tops of my garters, then yanked even higher to show my black satin panties. I heard the whisper-hiss of his belt as he pulled it free from the loops of his jeans, and then I felt the air—that crackle-shiver of moving air—before the leather connected with my upturned ass.


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo