Moxie Malone

Parfait

2012-01-29T09:00:00.000-08:00

Paint my tongue silky in rich, creamy layers;
Tickle my palate with tart whimsey,

Drowned in the treacle ribbons of your sweetness;
Perfection.

(140 Characters)

A Matter of Physics

2012-01-17T18:46:00.000-08:00

Once in awhile - ever so rarely - I have thoughts that stray beyond smut...

Matter interacts.

Quantum physics gives us small;

Newtonian, large.

Whew. Glad I got that out of my system.

Twelfth Night

2012-01-06T20:49:00.000-08:00

Tonight it's both beginning and end;
Don our masks; let us feast again.
Fill our mouths with sugared cake;
Twelfth night is time to merry-make.

(140 Characters)

Paso Doble

2011-12-26T10:55:00.000-08:00

Strong and confident,
He leads.
His cape, shadow, fiery flamenco dancer;
I follow.
Kaleidoscopic passion 'til the last pulse of our double beat.

(140 Characters)

Dear Santa

2011-12-16T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Santa,
I've been very naughty this year.
I have the video to prove it.
Meet me for milk and cookies; we can watch it together.
Yours truly.

(140 Characters)

Shimmer

2011-12-14T20:04:00.000-08:00

A spark, a glint, an incarnadine sprite;
An inkling of possible enveloped by night.
Clocks tick, wheels turn, potential on simmer;
Awaiting the light to gloriously shimmer.

Never

2011-11-26T10:44:00.001-08:00

Her mother was delighted with the news, initially.

She always knew that her daughter would be a writer - a journalist, perhaps. Finally, the girl would do what she had long envisioned. Yes, her daughter would do what she had the talent to do herself, but never had the time; the opportunity; or, more likely, the nerve to do.

"What are you writing?" she asked as she perched her chin in her hand, elbowing the dining room table where they sat sipping lukewarm coffee.

"Fiction," her daughter replied evasively, half hoping to share the news without going into details.

"Oh? what kind of fiction?" the mother pushed, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Adult fiction," she answered succinctly, hoping to end it right there while her mind raced to find another topic of conversation. How's Aunt Betty? Have you heard from Angie, lately? Or, the sure-fire conversation derailment, "Have you lost weight?"

"Adult fiction? What is that?" her mother prodded with that all-too-familiar tinge of disapproval coloring the question.

The older woman knew the answer even as she asked the question. Still, she always pushed, poked, and prodded until she got her answers - answers that she most often disapproved of. This would be no exception.

"Crap. Too slow." she thought. Cutting to the chase, the girl said matter-of-factually, "Erotica, Mom. I write smut." She then took a long swig of her too weak coffee and watched her mother's reaction over the rim of the mug.

Predictably, the woman half-gasped, rolled her eyes and tsked as she shook her head, evoking the unspoken, "Where did I go wrong?"

“It’s never good enough. Is it, Mother?” she shouted in her head, “No matter how hard I try, no matter how successful I am, it’s just never quite up to your standards. There’s always something wrong. At least, I try. What have you ever written that you had the courage to show anyone? Oh, and by the way, did you not hear the part where I am being published? It was the advance that paid for this little trip, here, to share the news with you. But, could you be happy for me? Nooooo. There is no pleasing you, is there?”

The words raged in her head and she trembled with the effort to keep them from spilling from her mouth.

It was then that her father, a retired musician and talented artist in his own right, lowered the newspaper and folded it on the table. He looked first at his wife then back to his daughter. "Never apologize for your art.” he said simply.

The mother opened her mouth, prepared to voice her objections, but it was his voice that was heard instead. “Never," he repeated.

And there it was. Crystal clarity.

In the end, it didn’t matter what her mother, father or anyone else in the world - save only one - thought about what she did with her talents. They were her gifts to give. In truth, it was all that she truly had to offer: herself. Every word that spilled onto a page was a piece of her - her heart, her thoughts, her truth, her soul. Apologize for that?

“Never.”

She smiled as she drained the last of the now-cold coffee from the heavy ceramic cup and stood up from the table then leaned down to kiss first her mother then her father, “You’ll have to excuse me, now. I have some writing to do.”

Let's Call it a Bubble Wand

2011-11-13T18:32:00.001-08:00

Pursued lips blew against the the slick wetness.
It grew, 
Expanded,
Popped.
Such fun, this new toy - a bubble wand.
She so loved blowing
Bubbles.

(140 Characters)

Original photo courtesy of Mischief

Stuffing

2011-11-08T17:35:00.000-08:00

Weeks away, she fantasized about the holiday spread.
Stuffing is what she really craved; indeed, there's nothing like a good stuffing.
Thanks.

(140 Characters)

Deluge

2011-10-26T20:02:00.000-07:00

Deft, wriggling fingers worked their magic, conjuring a potent saline brew.
"Après moi le deluge," she chanted and soon her cup runneth over.

(140 Characters)

Oral Care

2011-10-17T19:50:00.000-07:00

People often ask, "What is your secret for such a lovely smile?"

"I simply follow the ADA recommendation for thorough oral care-twice a day."

(140 Characters)

P.S. Remember to scrape the back of your tongue.

Cookies

2011-10-02T20:32:00.000-07:00

The promise of sweet satisfaction swirled lazily as the balmy air wafted enticingly toward him.
Watery desire flooded his mouth, expectantly.
(140 Characters)

He was a fan of cookies - those delicious, tasty treats made strictly for pleasure and consumption.
Perhaps, he'd have two - cookie sandwich.
(140 Characters)

Chinese delivery or takeout, her favorite part of the meal was nibbling on the fortune cookie.
Of course, in an hour she was hungry for more.
(140 Characters)

Hum

2011-09-18T19:01:00.000-07:00

She didn't whistle while she worked.
Of course, it is hard to whistle when your mouth is full.
She could hum, though and no one minded at all.

(140 Characters)

Non Dairy Creamer

2011-09-11T20:43:00.000-07:00

She liked her coffee bold and tea lightly sweetened,

but never used milk in either.
However, she'd drain every drop of the non dairy creamer.

(140 characters)

Hurricane Season

2011-08-28T18:25:00.000-07:00

Limbs bend and tangle casting their undulating shadows;
Dancing to a tumult of pounding, moaning and blowing.
Outside the storm raged on, too.

(140 Characters)

RDA

2011-08-10T20:41:00.000-07:00

Lingering in the produce section, she admired the squash and cukes,
but it was the girth of the carrots that excited her.
Clean up on aisle 3.
(140 Characters)

Fingers stroke the downy, palm-cupped flesh, swollen with honeyed juice.
One bite to drown grazing lips in the glacéing flavor spill. Peachy.
(140 Characters)

*Original photo courtesy of "Mischief"

Tasty Dish

2011-07-19T20:00:00.000-07:00

He liked the spice in Monday's red beans and rice;
Jambalaya thrilled his taste buds, too.

He'd go out of his way for a café au lait;

Even a bowl of gumbo would do.

Yet, he'd an appetite for a certain delight;
One you can't find in a roux.

No. Po boys or crawfish weren't his favorite dish,

But a tasty New Orleans tart that he knew.

Red, White & Blue

2011-07-02T06:41:00.000-07:00

The voice, like a warm, wet tongue in her ear, "What are you wearing?”
She reddened, "Y-you have the wrong number.”
“Then why are you...wet?”
(140 Characters)

Sinking into the pile of pillows propped behind her, knees raised and parted.
Easy access for fingers to tease the white-hot flame of desire.
(140 Characters)

She simply adored those fine, plump orbs -
Skin drawn taught over fleshy meat, bursting with juice.
What a lovely shade of blue.
Irresistible.
(140 Characters)

On Daddy's Day...

2011-06-18T23:47:00.000-07:00

Brazenly, she parked herself on his lap, wrapped her legs around him and pressed her warm flesh to his chest,"Your present is ready, Daddy."

(140 Characters)

Her gift was simply
All that she is and all she will be:
Each breath, each heartbeat, each thought, dream and smile - His.
Such tiny offerings.

(140 Characters)

One Nightstand

2011-06-05T19:52:00.000-07:00

She whispered, "How much?"
"I'm no pro." I said then winked, "But I do accept tips."
In the morning, she left it on the nightstand. I did too.

(140 Characters)

Princess

2011-05-29T18:52:00.000-07:00

She'd half forgotten what she'd imagined as she waited for her fairy tale to come true;

Surely, it didn't include feeding these pesky trolls.

(140 Characters)

"Sometimes, most times frogs are just frogs," she mused aloud.
"Or, just maybe I'm not a princess," she thought and puckered up again, "Nah."

(140 Characters)

Help Wanted

2011-05-25T16:58:00.000-07:00

She was in sales; her wares were pleasure toys.
Her help wanted ad read:
Product Demonstrator Needed
Competition was stiff for the one opening.

(140 Characters)

Reflection

2011-05-15T21:02:00.000-07:00

She didn't recognize the reflection in the mirror.
Her identity had always been as property -
Someone's daughter, girl friend, lover.
Who was that woman staring back?
(140 Characters)

Own Devices

2011-05-02T16:34:00.000-07:00

Some girls shouldn't be left to their own devices-especially her.
Her devices tended to have sharp edges, electricity and left a sticky mess.

(140 Characters)

Fleshy Coffin

2011-05-01T19:46:00.000-07:00

For so long, she managed to become dead from the neck down, suppressing any feelings - a fleshy coffin for what was once a passionate heart.

(140 Characters)

Southern Girl

2011-04-23T20:37:00.000-07:00

Sultry climates appeal to her.
She enjoys going down south where it's warm, humid and the rhythm is slower-
where she can take her sweet time.

(140 characters)

Swell

2011-04-18T16:47:00.000-07:00

She rubbed her skirt-clad ass against him then left his office.
"How're things?" asked a co-worker as she shut the door.
"Swell," she smirked.

Before Breakfast

2011-04-14T20:45:00.000-07:00

I wanna go:
spiral sliding, dragon riding,
moonbeam surfing, universe birthing,
timeline jumping, bottom bumping;
all before breakfast-
with you.

(140 characters)

Photo: Super Moon

Moxie Malone

Blow

2011-04-03T15:47:00.000-07:00

Streamers, balloons and confetti in place.
Check.
Table set. Cake decorated.
Check, check.
Candles lit.
Check.
The only thing left to do was

blow.

(140 characters)

Sending birthday wishes

with love

~Yours truly

His Cup of Tea

2011-03-24T19:12:00.000-07:00

Her hips rolled as she sashayed in his direction carrying the serving tray.
It was just as he liked it:
hot, wet and honey-sweet.
Quite proper.

(140 characters)

A Day for Him - March 14th

2011-03-13T20:01:00.000-07:00

So hungry; their mouths watered as dinner heated to perfection.
She was a vegetarian, but tonight they'd both be enjoying a mouthful of meat.

(140 characters)
Photo courtesy of Lisette

After the Parade

2011-03-08T20:25:00.000-08:00

He uncorked the bottle and topped off her plastic cup,

Then refilled his own.
She'd leave on Wednesday, but would call him.
She had his number.

(140 characters)

Strands upon strands of multicolored bobbles,
Well-earned booty,
Layered into a sparkling variegated breast plate
That hides the real treasure.

(140 characters)

Flickering flambeaux, rhythmic drum
Mark the hour for which they come;
Snatch mid-air, the glittery beads
Flung with abandon from vessel and steed.

Side note: The featured photo was taken hours after a Mardi Gras parade rolled through the area. The word, "Quintessential" comes to mind.

Inadequate Valentine

2011-02-13T17:49:00.000-08:00

A single word;
A single symbol;
A single day,

to capture and express

what is felt;
what is uncontainable;
what is infinite,

is simply...

not enough.

(140 characters)

Photo: Sunbeam
Moxie Malone

Sentinel

2011-01-23T19:49:00.000-08:00

Steadfast sentinel, silhouette against a lattice of reaching limbs;
One among many.
Your wind-rustled leaves whisper my name,
Calling me home.

(140 Characters)

Clean Start

2011-01-01T18:01:00.000-08:00

No party hats, champagne or midnight kisses to ring in the new year.
For auld lang syne, she decided to celebrate naked, hot and wet instead.

(140 Characters)

Yule

2010-12-25T20:46:00.000-08:00

Spark, flame, smoldering heat,
Radiant glow and shadow's retreat.
Spiral dance 'neath ember showers;
Warmed by the fire in winter's dark hours.

(140 Characters)

Wassail

2010-12-12T08:52:00.000-08:00

Nectarous, piquant juices simmer slowly,
Heated by a low persistent flame;
Breathe the humid swirl of spicy-sweet vapor;
Swallow my liquid sin.

(140 characters)

Herstory

2010-12-01T20:07:00.000-08:00

Beneath a scuffed, stained cover;
On tattered, dog-eared pages, waiting:
to be seen;
to be known;
to be understood-
Herstory.
Fiction, of course.

(140 Characters)

Pumpkin Pie

2010-11-25T14:47:00.000-08:00

"Pumpkin! I'm home." He announced.
She shook the can and swirled the rich, frothy cream onto her tasty pie.
"Time for dessert." she whispered.

(140 Characters)

Measure

2010-11-15T21:06:00.000-08:00

An inch, a foot, a mile, perhaps?
Or, do you prefer seconds, minutes or hours?
How do you measure the limits of yours?
I'm unable to find mine.

(This post, however, can be measured - it's 140 characters)

Costume

2010-10-31T20:07:00.000-07:00

She bounced and cheered for him,
wearing the costume he brought her-
a football tie and pom poms.
He liked her tricks and she loved his treats.

(140 characters)

Strip away the costume;
Stand naked in the light.
A glow;
A shimmer;
Then fade into the night.
More is there than can be seen;
When her mask is removed each Halloween.

Filling

2010-10-24T14:27:00.000-07:00

Tender and sweet, there was still that well warmed, scintillating, honey-glazed hole verily begging for a thick and salty nut cream filling.

(140 Characters)

Want

2010-10-19T20:17:00.000-07:00

He said, "Give all men what they really want."
"What men really want is what they can not have," she replied.
He grinned broadly, "Precisely."

(140 Characters)

Danger

2010-10-14T18:50:00.000-07:00

"Advertisement or caution?" he asked the girl.
The sign read -

"Warning:
Contents hot and may cause irritation, swelling, stiffness, or pain."

(140 characters)

Woman's Work

2010-10-10T08:15:00.000-07:00

This was going to take awhile and get quite messy before she was through. It was okay; she had the patience, skill and tools to do it right.
(140 characters)

It was past time to get this done. So, she plugged it in, flipped the switch and it purred its familiar hum as she pushed it back and forth.
(140 characters)

Overheated, drench and panting, she fell back exhausted from her efforts. Slowly, a smile curled at the corners of her mouth. Job well done.
(140 characters)

Yoga

2010-09-30T17:06:00.000-07:00

It's just a quickie in the morning to start the day, but in the evening, she really stretches it out. That's when it is long, slow and deep.

(140 characters)

Cordially Yours

2010-09-21T19:11:00.000-07:00

Silky, smooth, untouched delicacy -
Yield finally, inevitably.
Spill forth intoxicating nectar and
Precious, untasted fruit for
One to cherish.
(140 Characters)

And, because it's more fun doing it together, I bring you a bonus tweet - a collective effort with the divine, delectable Betsy.

"Let's keep this cordial," she said pressing the chocolate between her lover's lips preparing for their kiss. "And another flavor later on."
(140 Characters)

Infinite Moment

2010-09-12T19:10:00.000-07:00

In this infinite moment of
You, me, we -
Heartbeat and breath of
wreathed intimacy;
Enfolded in the rapture of
Your will;
Hear echoed pleas to be
Closer, still.

Walk

2010-08-31T18:49:00.000-07:00

Walk. Walk with me;
Beneath red moonlight by an ebon-azure sea;
Where all and nothing is as it seems;
And reality resides only in these dreams.

(140 characters)

Mélange à Trois

2010-08-23T19:01:00.000-07:00

A dab of filling on her greedy lips - all that remained of the custard drenched berries, tart and sweet.
Generously ladled; eagerly swallowed.

(140 Characters)

Girls Night Out

2010-08-09T20:18:00.000-07:00

Girls night out - poetry reading and dinner.
One talented tongue waxed poetic;
The other two grazed the buffet, sampling their way to dessert.

(140 Characters)

Lissy's Garden

2010-07-31T19:18:00.000-07:00

There once was a precocious young girl named Lissy who was determined to plant a garden as a gift for her father after seeing him admire a lush patch of blossoms that grew nearby. Indulgently, he permitted her the best of seeds as well as the space and the tools she begged of him, taking delight in his daughter’s interest and enthusiasm.

She sang merrily as she cleared the small plot of land, turned the soil then planted and watered with her own little hands the seeds that her father had given her. All the while, Lissy imagined the smile on his face when he saw the beautiful flowers that she had nurtured and grown just for his pleasure.

As the weeks went by, the seedlings sprouted and began to grow under her careful eye, thriving as much on the warmth of her affection and intent as the water and constant attention she gave. Her father’s heart swelled with pride and he smiled to himself enjoying his daughter’s happiness as she worked on her present for him. Her joy was quite contagious to all around her.

It wasn’t long before the first tender buds appeared on Lissy’s flowers and she giggled with glee as she knelt in the soil staring in awe at her handiwork. Sadly, even the most lovingly tended gardens must deal with problems every now and then; one of those problems is the occasional encroachment of wild plants.

Lissy was initially confused when something dark and low caught her eye, almost hidden by the sprouting leaves of her plants. She edged near and gasped with horror and revulsion when she saw that a weed had dared enter her pretty little garden.

Lissy lurched forward clawing at the weed, unintentionally crushing some of the delicate flower stems beneath her knees. Sitting back on her haunches with a spindly mass of dirt and weed in her fist, angry tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks onto the soil as she looked at the broken flowers before her. Once she had cried herself out, she carried herself back to the house, forgetting to water her garden. She stomped past her father without a word and headed straight to her room where she stayed all night, much to his disappointment.

The next day Lissy returned to her garden, still sullen about the weed and broken flowers, only to find that some of her lovely stems had withered in the very spot where her salty tears had dampened the earth. She flung herself to the ground, more angry than the day before, crushing yet more flowers beneath her. As she lay there weeping at her losses, she saw that there were more weeds among the base of her plantings.

Lissy crawled through and over her plants, yanking out the weeds that sprouted insistently;she paid no heed to the tiny patch of buds that had begun to open and blossom. All Lissy could see were the weeds and the flattened flower bed that lay drying beneath the hot sun without benefit of the water that Lissy forgot to bring in her distraction.

And so it went for days and weeks: Lissy would storm out to the garden ripping and yanking at the weeds, crying out at the injustice of it all, seething with anger and resentment. It seemed to her that the harder she tried to rid the garden of the encroaching weeds, the more they grew - as if the weeds thrived on her anger and tears and grew just to spite her.

Most of the plants lay as broken, dried husks, barely discernible from the gray and thirsty soil. She’d all but forgotten the flowers that she had originally envisioned and her reasons for growing the garden in the first place. In a final fit of anger, she threw down her tools and abandoned her garden, leaving it to the elements.

Lissy came to resent anything that bloomed - as if the flowers burst open in glorious colors just to mock her. Worst of all, she became bitter towards her father, blaming him for her failure; surely, if he didn’t like beautiful flowers, then she wouldn’t have tried so hard and failed. Surely, he must think less of her because of it.

She would look away when she had to walk near her garden; she felt it stood as a monument to her failure. Lissy even closed her curtains, refusing to look outside, lest she feel the sharp painful reminder of the garden she once cared for and nurtured - a loving gift for her father.

It was a dark and heavy time for Lissy and her father. It hurt him to see her so disheartened; her pain was his pain, too. It seemed her sadness and anger were as contagious as her joy had been.

That’s it. There is nothing more to the story, today.

Perhaps tomorrow Lissy will look out her window or peek as she walks by the garden; perhaps she’ll see the patch of pretty flowers growing there directly beneath her window sill.

Maybe tomorrow Lissy will come to know what her father knew all along: the soil is fertile and the seed is strong and Lissy will eventually grow an incomparable garden if she picks up the tools he gave her and tends her garden with the joy she once did. And the weeds? Well, the weeds will come uninvited. Get over it.

(Special thanks to Betsy for her eagle eye editing. It is a better story because of you.)

Truffle

2010-07-24T12:29:00.000-07:00

Pressed between parted lips,
His sweetmeat collapses upon her tongue
Into cream textured layers of lingering flavor,
Leaving her craving more.

(140 Characters)

Cake for the Birthday Girl

2010-07-12T18:10:00.000-07:00

Sure, she enjoys a firm, warm mouthful, but it's the thick, rich batter waiting to be licked clean from the spoon that she's really after.

(138 characters)

Fireworks

2010-07-02T17:03:00.000-07:00

Air humid and thick with anticipation.
Darkness descends;
Expectation builds and crests -
a flash,
a gasp,
a rippled
EXPLOSION.
So...satisfying.

(139 characters)

Hot Day

2010-06-28T21:07:00.000-07:00

Fingers dip to pluck from the sweat-beaded glass a frozen shard that promises relief from the merciless, distracting heat. (122 characters)

The crystalline sliver succumbs to fever coarsing just below the surface birthing a solitary, glistening droplet that meanders downward. (136 characters)

Trickles slide lazily over graceful curves, swells and valley to the lilting, whispered song of, "Yes." (103 characters)

Exquisite Torture

2010-06-21T20:02:00.000-07:00

Exquisite torture:

Fed morsels of a feast set for refined palette and ravenous appetite.

Swallow instead the watery pool of sublime craving.
(140 Characters)

His Day

2010-06-20T11:06:00.000-07:00

His day, awaken and surprise;
Serve hot and ready, just need to rise.
Over easy, fresh bake and spread.
Daddy's Day breakfast delivered in bed.

(140 Characters)

Nectarine

2010-06-18T19:10:00.000-07:00

Succulent, voluptuously smooth flesh;
Ripe with supple, quivering ether.
Pulp and nectar;
Ambrosia.
Proffered:
To sample,
To savor,
To devour.

(135 characters)

Seduction

2010-06-08T20:53:00.000-07:00

Tendrils of seduction unfurl,
Languidly undulating;
Encircling prey.
Desire entwined,
Caressed, stroked, inflamed-
Inviting,
"Just a taste."

(140 Characters)

Sneak a Peek

2010-05-23T10:01:00.000-07:00

As I work on the novel, Unlocked Diaries, I often find myself with a few leftovers - much like remnants a seamstress might have when working on a dress.

Rather than toss them away, I sometimes put them here to be used "as is." Here's a few scraps - a tweet and a poem - from the chapter called, "Watchers."

Oh my, look at the time! He'll be here soon - must get ready: strip, dim lights, part curtains. Check. Now wait for sounds by the window. (137 Characters)

Crunch of gravel underfoot, low guttural moans;
Staccato panting, rustling bush says I'm not alone.
Private show, just 'tween us, sure to tantalize;
Sounds of pleasure fill my ears, and lust just for your eyes.

Cucumber

2010-05-11T19:23:00.000-07:00

Seed,
suspended in gelatinous fluid
waiting to spill forth
from it's smooth tubular home.
So very satisfying
in the heat of a summer's night.

(140 Characters)

Home

2010-04-26T20:17:00.000-07:00

To her, he was home - not the living space she rented.

Until he came along, she lived in the air conditioned discomfort of homelessness.

(136 characters)

Special thanks to aine for the word prompt.

A la Tart

2010-04-24T17:59:00.000-07:00

He had a sweet tooth.
She had the recipe to satisfy:

One part sugar
One part water
Mix well and pour liberally over hot tart.
Enjoy.

(128 characters)

Daily Bread

2010-04-11T19:06:00.000-07:00

She'd been told the way to a man's heart, so she brought him fresh baked bread wearing only red oven mitts and a smile. She was aiming lower.
(141 characters)

Her hands wrapped around - kneading, massaging, pulling, stroking. Risen and warm, her mouth would be filled soon. Very soon.
(141 characters)

(Note: Yes, I exceeded the 140 character Twitter limit on both. I could have made the limit by leaving off the periods, but wouldn't that be missing the point?)

Birthday Cake and Candles

2010-04-03T10:36:00.000-07:00

She would have told him, "Happy Birthday," but couldn't speak with her mouth full. He didn't mind in the least. (111 characters)

It wasn't so much the cake she baked as much as it was how she served it and where she placed the candles that made this birthday special. (137 characters)

She knew he liked it when she burned the candle at both ends. She was only too happy to oblige. (95 characters)

Tastes Like Happy

2010-03-29T21:37:00.000-07:00

Dabbing her tongue, she tasted the salty sweet emotions pooled at the corner of her mouth. These tears tasted like happy.

(121 Characters)

Spell

2010-03-21T20:46:00.000-07:00

She recognized the look.
It was all too familiar - smitten.
It was unintentional - the spell,
as ephemeral as her presence.

(122 characters)

Good Girl

2010-02-22T20:57:00.000-08:00

Catechism-Catholic Schools-Church.
"We did all we could to raise a good girl," they lamented.
He came along and redefined good.
That worked.
(140 Characters)

Dessert

2010-02-17T20:33:00.000-08:00

Ripe, seed-speckled flesh filled with cream and glazed with sticky, sweet honey - we call it dessert.
(100 Characters)

Point of View

2010-02-14T19:43:00.000-08:00

Round and round she goes.

Soaring highs and sinking lows.
Staying on the ride was all she could do
to see the world from another point of view.
(140 characters)

(Photo by Lisette)

It's the Thought that Counts

2010-02-13T08:32:00.000-08:00

How sweet.
Weeks later she discovered that he'd thought of her on Valentine's Day after all.
He'd charged a lap dance to her credit card.
(137 Characters)

Smiling, she recalled her favorite Valentine's:
#1 - Watching Moulin Rouge together
#2 - A hot dog at the gas station
#3 - $1 bag of sour candy
(140 Characters)

On Faith and Knowledge

2010-02-05T08:44:00.000-08:00

Acts of faith - sometimes we go through the ritualistic motions until belief catches up with knowledge.
(103 Characters)

"I've faith in him," one told the other, "Don't you?"
"No," she replied, "I know him."
"You don't trust him?" she gasped.
The other grinned.
(140 Characters)

"You lack the strength of your convictions, boy," she smirked turning away. "If I'm who you say, then crawling naked to me is an honor, no?"
(140 Characters)

A Proper Education

2010-02-01T21:36:00.000-08:00

A recent viewing of the movie - Dangerous Beauty - coupled with conversation inspired the muse who co-exists inside me to ponder a world of exalted beauty and pleasure.

What if instead of being taught to compete with men, we were taught to complement them by being wholly feminine?

I imagine a world where school not only taught the three R's but also taught girls to embrace that which is beautiful in themselves and they learned how to express it - to be beauty in motion. No, not beauty as defined in popular media, rather finding what is supremely unique about each girl and bringing that forth - cultivating it...nurturing it.

What if every girl were raised as if she were a gift for a god? What caliber of men would be deserving of something so precious?

Ah, what divine desirable creatures we'd have walking amongst us and oh, how wonderful to be counted in their number.

And in keeping with that theme, I give you a 140 character sentiment -

Since her youth, she was prepared to be possessed by a god - her skills honed on males whom she called dogs, unable to see them as real men.

Carnival

2010-01-16T18:03:00.000-08:00

A deliciously wanton slut always enticing you to grab her by the hair to make her your own.
New Orleans.
(104 characters)

Cold beads and shiny trinkets exchanged for warm, eager flesh sprung free. "Throw me something Mister."
Mardi Gras.
(115 characters)

Indulging in the decadence of carnival season, she greedily sucked down the slick, thick filling that spilled onto her tongue.
King Cake.
(137 characters)

A Side of Reality

2010-01-03T21:28:00.000-08:00

With childlike wonder, she marveled at the Rockwellian surroundings never recalling the sky being that particular color before. (127)

The purple and emerald rains had washed the city making it vaguely unfamiliar though she thought she knew where she was. (120)

In awe, strangers reverently heaped praise, adoration and promises of eternal service on her to her growing discomfort and confusion. (133)

Others spoke to her with conspiratorial familiarity, pressing her for information and secrets that weren't hers to give. (120)

Worried, she disappeared into the night to protect those she loved hiding in unlikely places as she waited for dawn. (116)

Voices whispered suggestions from the shadows - "drink that, hide here, cut off that lovely hair or better yet, cut off that finger." (133)

Daylight came and went and peculiar people gave and took what they wanted as her heart and mind called for rescue from this strange place. (137)

While she waited for her hero, she danced on the fringe of her own sanity beneath the Sirius moonlight. Or, was it just a dream? (128)

"I'll have the peach milk," she told the server days later as she fingered the remains of her once long hair, "with a side of reality." (135)

(Note: This is a compilation of individual tweets - 140 characters or less - woven together into a micro-flash fiction.)

Santa's Girl

2009-12-24T14:08:00.000-08:00

I wanna wiggle on Santa's lap until I've found the north pole;
I wanna lick his candy cane or maybe swallow it whole.
I wanna check his list of naughty girls to ensure I'm there this year;
I wanna give Santa some not-so-nice thoughts when I whisper in his ear.
I wanna serve Santa my cookies - warmed with milk on the side;
I wanna be sure they are drenched and dripping when I hop his sleigh for a ride.
So, if you run into Santa, please let him know this Christmas Night;
I wanna be why he "Ho, ho, ho's" and will work 'til I get it right.

~Moxie

Statuesque

2009-12-24T12:28:00.000-08:00

"That statue is sad," she said aloud.
The other girl frowned and asserted, "That statue is perfect."
To which she replied, "exactly."
(133 characters)

I'd rather be a lump of play dough in the artist's warm hands - always shaping me to his liking than be perfect stone forever wearing away.
(139 characters)

Kneady

2009-12-19T20:13:00.000-08:00

"Your loaves are like door stops. You aren't good at bread making. Why do you do it?"

She replied simply, "I knead to please him."
(130 characters)

The recipe instructions read, "knead until blisters appear."

She kneaded for an hour and sighed with dismay at her still smooth skin.
(133 characters)

The Game

2009-12-17T18:17:00.000-08:00

There is no play book in the game of life. I've picked up a few lessons, however, that I use as guide lines as I roll the dice and move around the board:

1. Dogs that bring bones also carry bones away.
2. Cream rises to the top and shit floats. Sometimes, it's hard to tell which is which.
3. Egos are like helium balloons; the tiniest prick can burst it and send it sputtering in circles.
4. If you don't like the game, step off of the field and have a lollipop.
5. When in doubt: be nice, seek high ground and assume the best in people. You might be wrong, but it's easier to live with the outcomes than to take the opposite approach.
6. Daddies make the best playmates. More often than not, they are in it for the fun and will pretend to let you win. And, if you should stumble and fall, they will pick you up, dust you off and discreetly kick that kid who tripped you in the butt.

Slutsicle

2009-12-07T14:50:00.000-08:00

I can't decide which way to lick is better - cold, but always wet and ready or warmed and melted into a sweet, sticky puddle. (136 characters)

(special thanks to aura for the new term in my ever-expanding dictionary - slutsicle or is that slutsickle?)

Recommended Daily Allowance

2009-12-05T20:56:00.000-08:00

When I want a wholesome treat to fill my mouth, I wrap my lips around a peeled, firm, thick, banana and suck down the sweet creamy goodness. (140 Characters)

Sometimes, I need to crack open the hard shell of a coconut so that I can sip the sweet nectar then consume the moist flesh trapped within. (139 Characters)

Pocket Protector

2009-12-02T21:46:00.000-08:00

There are times-most times, perhaps-I wish I was tiny enough to crawl into your pocket and hide from the world while being always close to you. (143 characters)

Time to Take a Breath

2009-11-23T18:08:00.000-08:00

As the end of the month draws nearer and I inch closer to the 50k words for NaNoWriMo, it's time to take a short break - to come up for air. This time I'll share something that hasn't yet found its way into the novel but needs to be expressed, if only here.

"Without exaggeration, if He wanted my last breath, He need only inhale," she told the girl with the magical eyes - the girl who dared to climb through the window.
(134 characters)

Touched

2009-11-08T17:31:00.000-08:00

As I continue to write on towards fifty thousand words in thirty days, I have moments when I think I must be crazy or as my family calls it, "touched."

On that note, I bring you another Tweet-sized snippet (136 characters) from the chapter tentatively called Shari's Sins:

There's always something beautiful, dark or interesting to look at - and touch. I've been told more than once to "NOT TOUCH," but I do.

A Word About Sluts

2009-11-07T20:10:00.000-08:00

Yours truly has been immersed in writing on a 50k word novel for NaNoWriMo. If you are interested, you can click the logo to the right to follow my progress and learn more about the whole project.

For fun, below is a single line from the novel. In the spirit of so many of my updates, it's 140 characters making it a tasty Tweet-sized treat:

She leaned close, touched my hand and smiled into my eyes as she told me, "Of course I think you are a slut. I wouldn't be here, otherwise."

Bottom Line

2009-10-25T20:14:00.000-07:00

She exhaled a breathy whisper as her hand moved lower, "I confess. I have very naughty thoughts about You." (107 characters)

He ruined her for other men. Simply, he was the only one who knew her - the only one who could fuck her soul. (109 characters)

Dressing for Dinner

2009-10-18T14:29:00.000-07:00

Tendrils of steam rise from warm pink flesh, freshly bathed. Smelling of pure seduction, she smooths on scented lotion. Soft. So very soft. (139 characters)

Draped silk fabric around her neck, ends flutter as she walks towards him. Tying the Windsor snugly at her throat, she shivers at his touch. (140 characters)

Licked

2009-10-12T19:51:00.000-07:00

Her tongue drags along the textured surface before drawing the treat through soft lips;taking her sweet time, she suckles...tastes...savors. (140 characters)

"You are afraid that you'll become dependent," he said.
She nodded silent agreement.
Experience taught her to fear the thing she needed. (136 characters)

Tossed Salad

2009-10-06T19:00:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's the thick cucumbers
or the tomatoes waiting to burst in my mouth;
Maybe it's the creamy dressing.
But, I have a sudden craving.
(138 characters)

Pretend

2009-10-04T19:59:00.000-07:00

Fairy Princess,
Dreamer of Dreams,
Keeper of Hearts,
Dons a plastic and
rhinestone crown
pretending to be all grown up,
"Lookit me, Daddy."
(139 characters)

Girls grow into women;
Dreams fade;
Hearts scar;
Yet, somewhere inside remains
A fairy princess still pretending,
"Look at me."
(127 characters)

Little girls don't grow up; they just get really good at hide and seek. (71 characters)

Thirsty

2009-09-27T20:13:00.000-07:00

Fingers plunge effortlessly into wetness then press against waiting, parted lips, "Taste," she insists. (104 characters)

It isn't that the wine makes her become someone she's not; it simply dulls the pain of knowing who she is. (106 characters)

Beautiful Girls

2009-09-17T20:21:00.000-07:00

Sometimes pretty girls are hard to see beneath the war paint that disguises them or the armor that surrounds and protects them. (127 characters)

Lights out. In the silence, she cuddles a pillow praying for sleep and dreams - where she is beautiful and flies...into open, waiting arms. (139 characters)

The Mined Mind

2009-09-06T15:19:00.001-07:00

"He strode into my dream - a brilliant golden-white glow - and grabbed hold of my soul.
I was filled.
I was consumed."
(118 characters)

"No. I haven't lost my mind," she chuckled, staring into some distant realm. "That, too, is his now." (101 characters)

To Sleep

2009-09-02T04:30:00.001-07:00

Held to your chest,
My ear to your heart -
That is where I sleep...
And dream of being...
Held to your chest,
My ear to your heart -
(130 characters)

Fire Dance

2009-08-26T15:46:00.001-07:00

Leaves crackled underfoot as I crept near, drawn by the flickering glow of a camp fire that cast wavering shadows across the small clearing.

Watching secretly from the bushes, I saw a raven-haired girl dance to the throbbing earth-beat that pulsed up through her bare feet.

Bejeweled toes flexed, digging deeply into the coarse sand of the pit - talons holding prey.

Snaking arms glinted with golden bangles and coin bracelets clattered a cadence as her body pitched forward stretching...reaching.

Undulating hips rocked sinuously from side to side - honey trapped in an hour glass - Looping-Dipping-Lifting. Inviting men and their money.

A moan escaped my throat; my belly beckoned me to sway to the primal drum - to join her fire dance.

Startled, I gasped as another coin hit the ground at her feet tossed by an invisible hand. Who else watched from the shadows?

(Note: This is a compilation of individual tweets (140 characters or less) woven together into a single moment in time.

A Prayer

2009-08-21T17:51:00.000-07:00

Written five years ago - a former lifetime, it seems now- I searched high and low for this piece and gave it up for lost. Out of the blue, it quite unexpectedly reappeared today.

Close your eyes and see my face;
Fall into my warm embrace.

Hear me whisper in your ear
All the things you want to hear.

Feel me, smell me, taste me...

Take me;

Heal me, spell me, waste me...

Wake me;

But, not before dawn's first light
For God and Goddess rule this night.

Sheet Music

2009-08-20T18:12:00.000-07:00

Tingling fingertips caress with the lightest touch and a soft sigh escapes parted lips as she faintly recalls being touched that way.
(135 characters)

Now..

Tear drops trickle down her cheek as her nails dig into the fabric that mimics skin and mocks her desire. Hungry. So very hungry.
(129 characters)

And now...

Pear juice floods her mouth and drips onto her fresh, clean Egyptian cotton sheets. "More please," she begs. "More."
(116 characters)

InSex

2009-08-16T02:29:00.000-07:00

Restless.
She walks.
The cool evening breeze dries the sweat on her brow,
But does little for the wet heat pulsing between her thighs. (134 characters)

Out of the quiet, still evening
The katydids' song swells.
Responsively, her belly and breath draw
Inward-upward to the percussive symphony.
(140 characteres)

Just Us

2009-08-13T20:30:00.000-07:00

Armed with her can of corn and cell phone, our fledgling super heroine -Just Jane- checked herself in the mirror and declared, "kowabunga."

(140 characters)

Thanks to Tesla for the "kowabunga" word prompt - yeesh.

Squinting into the smoky fog, she watched for the phantom girl of lore. Shapes engulfed in the mist, but no girl. Just her and her thoughts. (140 characters)