Sunday, July 3, 2011

Flash Fuck Fiction - Own It, Ode to Strap On Sex

It's been quite awhile since I've written anything on this blog but fortunately my muse, who I thought had all but abandoned me, whispered sweet nothings into my ear. The title, "Own It," kept floating in my head and conjuring up images of hot and sexy strap on sex so I wrote what came to mind today. I don't think I 'd call it a poem but more of a stream of consciousness. Here it is, I hope you like it.

Dylynn DeSaint

your sex
my silicone cock
strapped securely against my skin
going to have you
up against the wall
in the car during daylight
in public
on the floor
in the hallway
anywhere I please

bitch, you are mine

grab your wrist
drag you toward me
fistful of hair in my hand
tear your panties off
spread your legs wide

hot cunt
wet, ready

no fingers this time
rigid and thick cock
all mine
shove it inside of you
feel it slide in
you beg
harder, faster, rougher
want more
bite your neck, shoulders
groan pleasure into your ear
taunt you
tease you
fuck you
hips pump
more frantic
lose myself
lose you

two voices
groan, shudder, cry out

still hard
I own it, bitch,
the silicone cock inside of you

© July 3, 2011 Dylynn DeSaint. All rights reserved. Copyright held by author.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Serendipity, Poetry, and Rambling

With this blog posting I don't mean to get sappy or philosophical so I hope it's not going to be interpreted that way. It's just me rambling and trying to piece together my thoughts and showcase the beautiful poetry of a new friend.

They say people come into your life for a reason. I'm not talking about lovers. What I'm talking about are the "random" people who serendipitously appear from out of nowhere and then before you know it, suddenly make an impact on your life. You know it's happened when you start asking yourself, WHO IS this person? Why are they here? What am I supposed to learn from them? And who or what entity put them on my path or journey through life? The search to find the answers will go on and on until you find some sort of acceptance and just go with the flow. I've learned when this happens to just let things unfold as they may. After all there's not a damn thing you can do about it anyway, so no use fighting it. It's destiny. I'm pretty sure you know what I mean and have experienced it yourself.

I've had a few moments with such a soul, a beautiful woman, who I met on Twitter of all places (thank you social media). She's talented and about as frank as anybody I've ever met in person. We've had several online discussions about our lives, loves, and the art of writing.

Did I mention she writes poetry? Well, I don't like poetry..err...make that "didn't" like it. When she asked me if I wanted to read one of her poems, I politely said, yes, but cringed inside because poetry really isn't my thing. I admitted this to her right off the bat. Most that I've ever read has left me feeling "eh" or unimpressed and mostly unmoved. Don't get me wrong; I acknowledge the beauty of poetry and the efforts of poets but my reaction to it has not been very positive or appreciative. This changed when I read hers. I was immediately struck by how her words affected me. At the risk of sounding overly gushy; my reaction to her poems was like what it must feel like for a deaf person who suddenly hears beautiful music for the first time. I know, a bit overboard, but see, I've never liked this stuff before and am happy for my change in perspective.

So anyway, MCL, as I'll refer to her, gets right to the point and doesn't mince her words during our discussions. Nor does she handle me with kid gloves or allow me to push her away (my trademark move when I feel vulnerable). I think this is because she instinctively knows that in order to get through to me, nothing but honest and brutal truth will move me. On a couple of occasions she has called me on the carpet when I've whined about my inability to express myself fully. One such discussion moved her to write, Synchronized Insanity, about my self-defeating behavior. When I got over myself; it was a real wake-up call. Was I that transparent? What happened to all those damned walls I work so hard to keep myself entrenched behind? I was blown away by her brutal honesty and frankness. It shocked me and I didn't quite know what to make of it but had to appreciate the beauty and message in her words.

Synchronized Insanity

Go ahead

Fucking tempt me

To penetrate the incapability

Of your very glaring ability

To find you

I need not

The map of your face

In my hands

To feel the wrinkles

Of your soul’s demise

And the inevitable

Rise from the ashes

Of experience

Applied to both

The you then

And the you now

You choose

Who you want to be

I’m just the mirror

Of your synchronized


I’m a voice you called

In a silent scream

That was just as much

A surprise to me

To tell it to you straight

You expect me to ghost

And exit stage left

Look at me

Under the lights

I’m still here

Center stage

To bow in ovation

To the reflection

Of everything

You are destined

To be

© MCL October 18, 2010. All Rights Reserved. Copyright held by author*

We discussed love and how the heart refuses to surrender to our minds and sometimes common sense. Once you've loved with your heart and soul, the connection or bond will always be there. Here is what she wrote based on that conversation:

The Bond

Intake of breath
Under your presence
The salt of your sweat
Ignites me
You anticipate
My every want
Before my throat
Defines it


My body
Long before
You took me
That sound
Of me
In your ear


In the depth
Of me
Eyes wide open
Legs oblige
I am yours to have
And turn over
And let you
Take me to

Another world

Eyes meet
With the knowing
Passion like this
A once in a lifetime
You know
The weight

Of the bond

© MCL October 21, 2010. All Rights Reserved. Copyright held by author*

The passion of this poem still completely blows me away. It's fucking beautiful. I hate to sound sappy but her words genuinely speak to me. I'm certainly more open to poetry these days because of her. I needed enlightenment and she gave it to me. Secondly, as often as I've questioned by writing ability, she's fearlessly challenged my inner critic. Her challenges serve as a reminder to me that my writer's block is both a self-imposed affliction and a convenient excuse.

So, whether I like it or not, she has arrived at my virtual doorstep and into my life as a sweet but pushy muse, refusing to take NO for an answer.

But hold on...serendipity and being a muse works both ways. Something in my words also affects her. Somehow, I seemed to have lit a fire in her as well. My internal conflict, musings, and general lack of self confidence stokes the flames of a poetic bonfire that seeks release from her very own pen. I am HER muse! (or at least one of them). It is my hope that someday she'll have the courage to try to get her work published or share more with the rest of the world. So, thank you MCL, for your gifts and allowing me to share them here on my blog. I hope you all enjoy them as much as I do.

*Permission to post poems on this blog granted by author.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

I did it. Oh yes, I did..a guest blog for Adriana Kraft

Adriana Kraft is the pen name for a happily married pair of hopeless romantics who love to read and write hot sex about bi women and the loves in their lives. They also write in the m/f, lesbian, bisexual, menage and polyamory genres. Their novels and short stories have been published at Extasy Books, Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, Love You Divine and Torquere.

Adriana asked me to be a guest blogger this month and I happily obliged. I used the opportunity to take indecent liberties with classic book titles as part of my post. Such blasphemy! Actually I'm just kidding about the indecent part. I was just having a little fun. Check it out! The Invisible Man: Tales of Kinky Voyeur
While you're at it, take a look at all the sexy books Adriana's written!

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Flash Fuck Fiction - 227 Words


Delicate silk binds my wrists tightly behind my back and I am blindfolded. Scantily clad in only a black thong and heels; I am on display just the way you like me.

Upright on my knees, I wait. Anticipate.

Your hushed footsteps break the silence in the bedroom. I stop breathing and turn my head to listen.
Delicate beads of sweat form a glistening sheen on my limbs. Taut muscles twitch. You are near.

"My pet, you look delicious, " You croon.

There is an unusually cruel lilt in your voice tonight .

I shiver.

Resist the urge to beg, I tell myself.

"You can't hide your thoughts from me whore. I know you like the back of my hand."

Whore-- Whore-- Whore, I chant quietly to myself. Yes, I am your filthy fucking whore.

Your fingers graze the silky skin of my breasts then plunge downward. Suddenly, as if from out of nowhere, you deliver a hard slap to my face.

I reel back on my haunches from the force of your assault and spread my legs wider in an attempt to regain my balance. Heat spreads to the imprint left on my face.
Only you can deliver the erotic sting of pain pleasure that my flesh desires.

Panties are soaked. Hot cunt pulses uncontrollably. I'm dripping for your love.

Fuck me. Love me,

I am yours.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

FlashFuck Fiction - 100 Word Erotica Story

Silent Fuck

Curled up under the sheets, my sleeping beauty lies.

Holding the shiny metal whip in my hand, I gently trace the length of her exposed calf with the soft leather flogger.

Stirring, she stretches languorously.

I tug at the blankets exposing her nude body and stubbornly repress the urge to lavish on her skin, a thousand kisses.

Opening her legs slightly, I see the rosy lips of her already glistening cunt and place the handle between her folds. She grips my hand with hers. Together we guide cool steel inside. Silent gasp. The flower opens. I bend to taste honey.

© October 12, 2010. Dylynn DeSaint. All rights reserved. Copyright held by author.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

FlashFuck - Lesbian Cyber Erotica - 100 Words


The words she types appear on the screen.
I smile.
Playful. Seductive. Siren-like.
I can't look away.
She asks me if I'll chat privately with her.
I do.
Alone with her now.
I fidget.
Electronic bedroom of sensual colloquy.
We linger.
Her words transform into invisible fingers caressing my skin.
I squirm in my chair.
Seductive. Sinful. She whispers.
I crave more.
Dirty words follow.
I am wet.
Lips on my breasts. Downward.
I open my legs.
Warm tongue reaches velvet.
Ecstasy. Eyes closed.
Inside me now.
Hips thrust outward.
Lips utter filth.
Lurid lover. Invisible fiend.
My heaven.

© October 5, 2010. Dylynn DeSaint. All rights reserved. Copyright held by author.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Paperwork - An excerpt of my latest erotic story about love, sex, and having fun with a whip

Last month I attended writer's conference in Portland, Oregon. I pitched the movie script and well, I think I bombed it because I was so nervous AND because I changed scenes in the plot so many times recently that I just didn't feel confident talking about it. Honestly, I couldn't even have sold the script to myself because I didn't believe in it either. So, with that being said, I'll do more work on it but in the meantime I'm also going to also do what I love the most, write erotica. Oh, and indulge my addiction to Twitter.

Tonight, I thought I'd post an excerpt of another story. It's called PAPERWORK. The story is about two women who are in a long term relationship and very much in love. The protagonist, or narrator of this story wakes up early one morning to try to get some work done but discovers that her lover has plans of her own. The story takes a playful and erotic turn when one surprises the other with a newly purchased leather riding crop.

By Dylynn DeSaint

I grabbed my glasses off of the nightstand and looked over at Nia. Her long blonde hair flowed softly over her face and lay in swirls around her bare breasts. Sometimes on mornings like this I’d lay quietly next to her and bask in the stillness and love I felt for her. The warmth of her body next to mine was all that I needed in this world to make me happy.

I lived for sweet moments like this and reveled in my refuge away from the world outside of our home. Each day that passed, I found myself happily falling in love with her all over again.

* * *Later in the story * * *

I stood there while she slipped my pajama bottoms down to my ankles and her fingertips explored my body further. Soon she kissed me, parting my lips with her tongue while stroking my skin softly while her hands snaked their way from my butt to the front. I kissed her back passionately, nipping at her lips. She responded with soft moans which were driving me mad with lust for her. I wanted to make love to her.

As we kissed, her fingers really began to explore below. Her hand stroked the inside of my thighs and then up to the outer lips of my impatient sex. She murmured something about how wet I was and how excited she was getting by just touching me.

Her fingers parted my slit and she edged her way inside slowly. I groaned with pleasure. Our lips parted momentarily while I got caught up in the sensations taking place in my groin.

“You like what I’m doing don’t you darling?” She said as she bit my lip softly.

“Yessss” I whispered back hoarsely, my body surrendering to her touch. I closed my eyes and waited for her to continue to fuck me.

“I want you to face the desk and open up your laptop” she commanded, as she withdrew her fingers momentarily.

“Do it, baby,” she said, softening her tone.

As I brought the laptop down from the shelf and put it on the desk, she continued to stroke my body and unbutton my pajama top

“You’re my all-work-and-no-play lover. Today I’m going to teach you the importance of playing. I want you to type everything that I’m going to do to you as I do it. It’s going to serve as a reminder later, that you work too hard. If you stop at anytime, I’m going to punish you with this beautiful leather whip."

I stood upright for a moment and tried to turn around to look at her.

Whip? Wait, where’d the whip come from? How’d she hide it from me?

I didn’t see it on the desk when I came into the room. As I attempted to turn around again, I felt the sting of the riding crop on the back of my thighs.

“Hey!" I exclaimed. “What the hell? Where'd that come from?"

She was having none of it. My questions were met with more slaps of the whip, this time on my ass.

“Baby, your job is not to ask but to do as I say,” she said, pushing my shoulders forward so that I was slightly bent.

She ordered me to take off my top. It was already unbuttoned so I flung it off quickly before she could smack me again.

“Nia baby, I don’t know if I’m really into this kind of stuff. I mean. I’ve never tried….”

She raised her hand and delivered more stinging wallops, this time across my back.

“Wait a minute!”

Before I could protest any more, she covered my body with hers, pressing in so that I felt her warmth. She held me while nipping gently at my shoulders then used her tongue to lick at the pink welts on my skin. I could feel her silky pubic hair on my butt as she rubbed her body against mine.

I was starting to get aroused again and quickly lost my preoccupation with the whip when I felt something between my ass cheeks. To my chagrin, it was that damn whip again.

“Baby, you’re supposed to be writing,” she purred into my ear before taking it between her teeth and biting gently. I flinched a little at the pain and felt goose bumps rise on my skin then fan out to my breasts. My nipples stood erect and were as hard as pebbles.

Her tongue glided over my ear as she breathed heavily. It excited me that she was so aroused. I have to admit that the sight of her naked with that whip in her hand also added to the heat building between my legs. I liked the way it looked but wasn’t so sure I liked the pain associated with it.

Her fingers traveled to the front, slipping down between my folds and ever so lightly making contact with my clit. I closed my eyes and purred at the luxurious warm feeling. While nipping at my shoulders, with the other hand, she pinched a hard nipple between her fingertips. The sensations of pain from the love bites, her fingers touching my breast, and the other dipped inside of me created a potpourri of sensations that were stirring my body like the perfect recipe for ecstasy.

Trying to do as she had ordered earlier, I started typing, painstakingly slow. My hands were trembling but I somehow managed the best I could lest I suffer the wrath of the whip.

Your soft hands on my ass feel heavenly/// fucking good baby@!

don't want you to stopp,./'.

I want to feel your fingers inside of me!!..

notttttt sure about whip/.,m

put it away!q

Not realizing that she was reading over my shoulder; suddenly and without warning, she pushed the handle into my ready and waiting moist core. It slipped in easily and a groan of pure bliss drifted from my lips.

© March 13, 2008. Dylynn DeSaint. All rights reserved. Copyright held by author

No part or portion may be republished or reprinted in electronic or any other format, in any language, translation, or version, without express permission from the author, except brief passages which may be quoted in a review.