Feeling Fresh New Love

A friend of mine is in fresh new love. Her lily is in full flame and she is glowing with it. I get a contact high just from sitting next to her. I watch her carefully and warn her that I am stealing her every word and expression for my next story. I need to capture what she's feeling, all the excitement of love and attraction untainted by time. She swears she's "never felt like this before" and she asks me if that's how I first felt about Husband and if I did had the feeling lasted.

Husband comes home right then, looking clean and respectable with his tie off, top button undone and suit pants just snug enough to be sexy yet respectable. I can tell he's had a good day as soon as he shines his smile at me. I say yes, because at that moment that is just how I love him. I decide right there and then that tonight there will be some "special" marital attention.

I know that fresh new feeling isn't there all the time, it comes and goes - or I let it come and go - or he lets it come and go. I look at Miss Fresh New Love and realize that after ten years of being with Husband that having that fresh new feeling is a choice.

I've solved that for myself but I have a new question, my naughty sisters, it's a chicken or the egg thing what comes first the flaming lily or the fresh new love, fresh new love or flaming lily?

A Luta Continua!

I finished "The Way You Look At Me", my first erotic short story. I have sent it off to a good friend (hereinafter to be referred to as Guardian Angel) for a final once over and then it will be ready for submission.
Husband hasn't read it nor has he asked to read it, I think he appreciates my Flaming Lily but may be a little bit wary of what she may say now that she has been given a voice. I don't know if he has noticed but while I was writing I watched him more carefully because I was trying to capture the little things that make him sexy to me.
At the end of the day sexy is all in the details isn't it? I watch him watching me making dinner and I want to ask him "what makes me sexy babe?" but - to my surprise I find that I am too shy so instead I say,
-Whatcha looking at?
And he says
-you,
with his mouth and,
-ooooooh weeee wait til the baby's asleep!
wth his eyes and I have another sexy detail for myself but he still hasn't told me anything.

So I season broccoli and drain pasta while I imagine what he is thinking. Then later I write a short scene in the story where the main character is being watched while she cooks and I put in the sexy little details I think would turn Husband on.

I don't know why I couldn't just ask him what makes me sexy. I guess the conversation to follow would have been impossible to have with backyardigans blaring in the background so I'll save it for a more intimate time. More on that later...

Send out positive vibes, my naughty sisters, so my story will be accepted for publication.

I don't want to write a blog about writing because I know there are already a lot of writers doing that. I have pretty much the same mental and physical blocks and all of the insecurities that they have. I am plagued by thoughts of "what if they hate everything/anything I write, what if I am not good enough...blazi blah and soron and sofoth." Yes, I even have the same husband and kids swearing that they support my craft but making absobloodilutely sure that my hands and my head are never free to write anything longer than a grocery list.

But that's not what I am writing about. I am writing about where my journey into writing romance and erotica takes my flaming lily. So what, she asks, is a flaming lily? My flaming lily is my sexual force, you know like your Chi or your Num is your life force? Same concept. I used to take my flaming lily for granted until I was separated from it for a while. It doesn't sound right calling my flaming lily an "it", so my flaming lily will hereinafter be referred to as "she". Anyway, I thought my flaming lily was gone after I had my second baby and she left me a woman who didn't care if she had sex or not as long as it didn't wake the baby and who subjected her husband to poor-guy-looks-hopeful-let-me-give-him-some sex or one-bonus-position-only-coz-its-your-birthday sex. I thought I didn't mind the change in me until about six months later when Husband and I were lazing the evening away watching TV in our bedroom. The baby was in a deep milky slumber and I was propped up on the pillows. Husband was lying diagonally across the bed when I noticed how his bottom curved perfectly up and over in his sweatpants. My lily stirred and touched his bum with my foot to remind herself of its firmness and Husband clenched said rear end just the tiniest little bit to acknowledge my foot. In that moment my postpartum lily stretched, yawned, shook off her hibernation and reignited herself back into my flaming lily and Husband and I were rolling about the bed in mutual joy in no time.

I have since been very careful to observe how my environment affects my flaming lily. And that is what brings me to this blog. As I research for my erotic writing career, conceiving characters and mapping out stories my flaming lily reveals more of herself to me and this journey, my naughty sisters, is what I will be sharing with you beginning with the creation of my first story.