As I recently announced on the Erotic Awakening podcast, we are seeking answers from our listeners, to compile into a special Sonic Erotica episode. This is your chance to be heard on Sonic Erotica.
The question we have for you is: What gives you your most powerful orgasms? Is it something in particular that your lover does, is it your personal kink, a way of being touched or just pure anticipation? What do you know will put you into mind blowing orgasm territory?
Make sure you have a nice quiet space and record an answer using your computer or your cell phone to make a digital file in wav or mp3 format. Then get in touch using the contact form for instructions on how to send us the audio. Answers can be as short as one or two sentences or as long as 3 minutes.
We’ll combine your answers into another piece similar to “What’s Your Fantasy?” and “It Feels Like…”
We are very excited to feature two authors from the erotic/sex blogosphere this month.
Aisling Weaver has been on our radar for a while, but the piece of her writing that appears this month came to us through a #twitterotica competition we ran earlier this year. We challenged tweeters to give us some quality smut in ten tweets or less, and Aisling came through with a winning entry that gets hot and heavy from the very first sentence. Here’s an excerpt of “Lust’s Claim”:
Up against a wall she pinned me.
“You’re mine tonight.” Her breath, hot, humid, slid along my cheek. My skirt retreated before her confident hands, baring my ass to the cold air.
“I will mark you,” she promised, nails dragging lightly over the swell of flesh.
“I will make you beg,” she continued and I mewled with want. My cunt plumped with blood. I craved the deep fuck I knew she could give me. She slipped one finger into me, just one, and I shook.
Aisling’s erotic writing touches on themes such as BDSM, threesomes, bondage, bloodplay, submission and dominance. She also tweets regularly, podcasts and has published multiple erotic story compilations. I’m sure there will be more of her to come on Sonic Erotica.
Missy Starrk is also an avid tweeter. When we discovered her blog post titled, “My Turn” we knew it would make a great recording. After much anticipation, we found just the right voice talent in Angela, to really bring this fantasy to aural life. It’s great to have a little femdom on the site – and I know Missy was pleased with the result, as she tweeted that she feels like a “proud perverted parent.”
He’ll be here in a few hours and the room is ready. But I’m not. I’ve used my fingers to penetrate him before, but never something else. It’s next to the bed; I purchased it just today. It’s not flashy but it’ll work. Whenever I’ve fingered him before his cock gets huge – it’s delicious. Tonight I will fuck him. I will fill him like he has filled me.
I shower and soap my body, fingers tracing my openings. I’m slick from the soap and my own self-made wet. My nipples become pointy and hard. I will fuck him tonight.
Jane’s guide calls Missy’s blog, “An abstract portrait of lust, yearning, and exploration.” She frankly discusses many aspects of her sex life which may sway into kink territory. Oh, and if you like sex toy reviews she’s very open with her recommendations.
It’s amazing the quality of erotic literature that can be produced in just ten tweets! That’s only 1400 characters to ignite our dirty minds, get us all heated and then leave us with a bang just before it’s all over. Yet that’s exactly what many of our entries managed to do. Oh, I’m left all tingly from the intensity of reading them!
It’s a pleasure to announce that the winner of the Make Smut Not Love twitterotica competition is @AislingWeaver. You’ll find other erotic gems at her blog. Today, I’ll have to leave you lusting for her story, which is coming soon in audio form to the free SonicErotica podcast.
â€œSavoryâ€ by Monocle
Sheâ€™d always left me hungry for more, always left me wanting. It took me a long time, too long, to realize she felt exactly the same thing. Just as I felt incomplete, so had she. Iâ€™d missed something, though neither of us knew what. Neither realized to ask or investigate.
We took our frustrations out on each other. Savage fucking that left us bruised and exhausted, but still missing.
In frustration, near anguish, and no small amount of anger, buried deep in her clutching, desperate cuntâ€¦ I bit her. Hard, on the shoulder.
She came. Hard, like nothing Iâ€™d heard or felt before.
Wide eyed and panting, a manic smile on her face, she pulled me back to her and bit my neck.
She drew blood.
I detonated inside her.
Now, we know. How to sate each other. How to sup on each other. No more missing, no more wanting.
I donâ€™t buy her flowers. Now, every fuck, every suck and lick bares the nick of teeth, a hissed breath that says â€˜mineâ€™ and â€˜yoursâ€™, and â€˜yesâ€™.
Is this love?
Last night, she nipped her initials below my bellybutton before swallowing my cock to the root and sucking me dry.
This morning, I made a heart shape of teeth marks on her inner thigh, then licked her until she cried.
You tell me.
“Tangled” by Wyeth Bailey (@DangerousSweets)
I’m your “just friend” but I’m the one who gets the phone call when the driveway needs to be shoveled or the car battery dies. Apparently the mysterious mistress can fuck over the phone from 3,000 miles away, but she’s not much help around the house.
I let myself in with the spare key. I was warned, but my jaw drops when I see you naked, tangled in wet sheets, arms cuffed to the headboard. Our eyes meet, jerk away.
My phone rings. I spy the key on the carpet as I answer. “I’m doing it now,” I say to this bitch on the phone. She’s polite, but I still feel like her servant.
My fingers touch your wrist, the love I feel for you is murderous. I am dead. I am buried. Your smell is overwhelming. Your free hands go immediately to the red leather choker that circles your throat. I watch how it calms you. You still haven’t spoken to me. You aren’t even ashamed.
My hands move to my mouth, holding back the I love yous that mean nothing. I want to kiss you.
“What?!?” I shout into the phone, realizing boss lady has been giving me directives, but I wasn’t listening. Her voice is low and warm, like a death threat.
“Tell her to come now,” she purrs. Or growls. I drop the phone. You lunge for it, listen, arch and scream for her like a dying animal.”
Our twitterotica competition #smutnotlove is now drawing to a close. When we have settled on a winner we will send them a direct message via twitter to notify them, and shortly after that we will announce it here. We have been very impressed by all the smutty tweet-treats the competition managed to elicit. Thankyou tweeters!
For some last minute love we’d like to share with you an article: “How I Found Love Through Television.”
I had googled his name, found his email, and emailed him asking him out for a drink. I remembered doing it but the memory had a gauze over it. It was hazy and it felt possible that I had never sent the email out at all. I remembered it as I remember dreams and it felt as unreal as a dream. Like a giant had grabbed me by the collar with his giant fingers, stood me up and set me down at my computer to make me send this television person an email.
And you’ve gotta love a happy ending.
So, not to encourage any weird and unseemly behavior, but, you know, if you see someone on television that you might want to ask out, you should totally just fucking do it.