Goodbye, Hello

For the past three and a half years, I have created a home here – a place where I can explore my desire in both word and image; a place that has allowed me to connect with the most cherished of friends and readers.

But it’s now time for a new abode – complete with my own domain name. While Blogger has served me well during this time, I’ve struggled with some of its limitations of late, especially in terms of posting images. Even though the new digs are yet again a nod to my noir tastes, I hope you’ll enjoy the more refined and nuanced layout, as well as the new streamlined content.

Since this will be my final post here, if you want to continue following my musings and self-portraiture, please tickle, tease, caress and click the link: 

lovehatesexcake.com

Lastly, to those of you who have been generous enough to link my blog to your own site, an update of the Love Hate Sex Cake URL to reflect this change would be very much appreciated.

Thank you for your wonderful support here. I look forward to seeing you at my new address.

And remember, my door’s always open…

~Minx x

(PS There’s a little housewarming gift awaiting you all at the new site…)

Filigree

She meets his eye and only then begins her sultry serpentine recline; her glowing skin roused and somehow soothed by the plush velvet cord beneath, her body a delicate and supple arch slowly, deliberately sinking, laying bare her lust, playing out an enduring seduction, an attraction that has her flesh open and ready, always wanting and awakened.

Yet all the while she yearns, hungers for him to shatter this erotic measure, to take and possess her in a way that erases all lingering doubt about the certainty of his desire, to have him push her back a little roughly, his urgency rising as he tears to easy shreds the lace adorning the modesty throbbing, aching to be anything but, his mouth greedily devouring her pouting sex, his beard lightly scrapping a path up the feminine line for his lips to suckle violently on the hard, rosy nipple before entering her with a groan and fucking her with hard, deep, steady strokes that leave her breathless, trembling as each successive orgasm strikes through her like a bolt, his own release deferred until she cries she can take no more, until he unlocks his gleaming uncut cock from her embrace and anoints the lips of her cunt and the tautness of her belly with his searing come, the rained pattern of his seed the only filigree, the only adornment she truly craves and needs.

The Red Curtain

As I stand here, my desire pulsing, throbbing slick between my legs, as I stand here imagining the warmth of your dark gaze in place of the cold, hard stare of the lens, as I stand here breathlessly aching, a sheen of lust and impatience prickling my fair skin, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder if you realise what you do to me, if you know your true effect.

Do you know I want and crave and need you in more ways than words can ever dare express? Do you know how I yearn to trail my soft lips over and about you, to devour every pulsing vein, every smooth hollow and wiry curl, every inch of your glistening skin and flesh? Do you know how I long to draw the scarlet drapes and cosset our naked bodies away, to fuck you and make love to you in this secluded and timeless cocoon, far from the world we know, far from the personas we assume, to fuck you with the passionate intensity running hot and oily through these veins, to arch myself over your imposing form, to come with a scorching rush over your greedy cock, to milk the seed my velvet heat covets, to feel your body tremble and shudder as you possess me as yours, as I scream your name? Do you know how I hunger to take you, expose and bare you in the full glare of the light, the curtains drawn back, this room our stage, the prying eyes on the street, the curious gazes watching raptly, consuming our entwined bodies, the sight of the carnal beast who lurks within you impaling my sweet little cunt from behind, the pounding of flesh, your fingers digging into my hips, your shaft emerging gleaming and bright, my moans, your groans ringing out through the hush and their silence, your fist in my curls, your mouth finally seeking my kiss as you drive into my soul, into my molten depths as no other man has done before this moment of bliss?

Shimmer

Baby, baby, baby…

Let me tease you
Please you
Step into your light
Let me share with you
My silken heat
This body lithe
Let us come together
Our desiring flesh as one
Let us come together
Indulge and shimmer

Net

With one hand around her hip and the other travelling the length of her delicate back, he eases her down, his head crooked to the left, affording his gaze the opportunity to drink in the sight of her bare breasts framed by the black shrug and the crimson peaks instantly hardened as they make contact with the cool gleam of the wood.

But just as his fingertips leave the base of her spine, brushing the crevice dividing the cheeks he aches to grasp, kiss and taste, he stops, suspends his touch and the maddeningly measured caresses, drawing back and away.

He retreats to pander completely to the voyeur inside him, to commit to memory the vision of the woman he has desired from a painful distance for an age, to watch her body’s rise and fall, to listen to her breath – short, sharp, on the verge of tortured – to listen and watch and deeply inhale the scent of her bloom, the body tamed and yearning and waiting, waiting for the moment he will part the slender thighs pressed tight and begin to finger the web of netting nestled against her smooth, dripping sex, waiting for the moment he rends that mesh without ceremony, overtaken at last by the urgency of his hunger and need to reunite their flesh, the need to bury his naked uncut glans into her cunt so deep from behind his cockhead kisses her womb, his balls fusing themselves to her plump, throbbing clitoris, so deep she will cry out, invoke the almighty, whimper his name and her pleas, so deep she will be possessed once again, reclaimed rightly as his, taken back at long last from another, taking her back to every moment, every whisper and groan, every utterance and devouring kiss, every bond, every bind, every decisive thrust and perfecting stroke, every minute they have fucked like animals in heat, every hour they sensually attended to their love in the dark, every glide of his shaft, coated with her glistening come, every clutch of her cunt, dreading the loss of his lust, every drop of his scorched rain, painting her fair skin, every surge of his come inside her, inside her, deep, deep inside in the place where it belongs.

Muse

Once his gaze falls upon her, once his touch maps the limits of her form, once his lips whisper their kisses into naked feminine warmth, she is changed, transformed.

No longer purely woman, she is more.

Muse, creation, force, she is the sigh, the moan, the roaring pulse, oil on canvas, the sensual delicacy of his brushstrokes, light and shade, the camera eye, shutter click slicing through the night, the sweetest skin, the honeyed come, voluptuous pixels aching to transcend the screen, the erotic words composed in fluorescent virtuality, the desire etched into her glistening velvet, the lustful yearning written on the body with tip of devouring tongue, with the artist’s hand, with the need of man, with the slide of thick, throbbing flesh, with the seductive scratch of the writer’s nib.

Silk and Lace

Draped in silk and lace, I wait.

This body prone, craving, vulnerably anticipating your incendiary lust, the desires whispered, growled hotly into my waiting ear, the words exhaled into the curves trembling even now for the lightness of your touch, the words murmured along the straps drawn so tight you physically ache to tear the hooks, to rend each delicate fibre, to devour every morsel of my perfumed skin and 



glistening flesh, your mouth lapping at my streaming cunt, your tongue raking the sweetest pleasure of my clitoris, your lips suckling on each plump petal of my throbbing sex until the first orgasm screams up from my bones, until you drink down the passion you effortlessly inspire, until these walls drip with my pleas, my moans for your hard naked cock, for you to fill me, to fuck me, to take me at long last, to make me your wanton lover, your woman, yours and yours alone.

Draped in silk and lace, draped in this cruel, unerring need for you, I wait.

Out of the Past

He stalks her in the night, in the hour of the wolf, rising up out of the past to taunt her, to inflame her irrational desires, her unyielding obsession for him, her hunger for possession, for the rough kiss of masculine flesh, for the hands that will pin her to the frame with the slightest effort, for the fingers that will part the softness of her thighs, for the burnished glans that will fill her and fuck her so completely, so savagely she will cry out, curse his very name, her body releasing the flood, her cunt clutching, coming hotly over his naked cock, her juices flowing over his shaft, saturating the ebony suiting, her scarlet nails digging, drawing the blood on his back, marking his flesh with the passion, the hatred that courses even now through the woman shattering the dark silence.

Fall

Are you longing to fall?

Are you yearning to unleash your passion, to relinquish all control? Are you craving the plunge, the breathtaking pulse, the drive, the searing stroke into this glistening flesh, this mind, this rapacious woman, this soul? Are you hungry for a taste, for the ecstasy of our sensual merging, for our wanton rebirth, for our carnal annihilation, for the scorched libations that will etch into me your name for evermore? Are you desiring the very same from near or afar, from countless miles away or mere moments from my door, aching to take us to the place we have needed for so long?

e[lust] #44

Photo courtesy of Plumptious Pea

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #45? Start with the newly updated rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates! 

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

Everyday D/s

Honesty sometimes feels like manipulation

Blood, life, sex

~ Featured Posts (Molly’s Picks) ~

Grief and Sex

Bringing Others into a Dom/Sub Relationship

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy! 

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Adventures In… Lube-land
ORAL SEX, AS STANDARD AS THE WHEELS ON A CAR
PolyAnna's Musings: Radar Love
A productive morning
Livia Has a Crush
Terms of Fatness

 

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Thoughts: Feminism, Sexism and Submission

 

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Deep subspace - sexy or scary?
Django Unchained: the suffering black female
What the hell is 'NORMAL' sex anyway?
Before
All About the Collar
Dirty Little Secret
Honesty

 

Erotic Fiction

Master's Valentine's ToDo List
The Passion of First Encounters.
Ma'am's Turn (First Meeting Part 3)
Nipple torture and girl love
The Boundary
I'm in the Mood
Skin
Memories
Lolita Twenty-Thirteen, Part Two
Want
A Quick Preview

 

Erotic Non Fiction

Lindsey's Orgasm
Blog Jammin'
Postponing the Inevitable
Watching Has its Own Rewards
A Farewell Torment
Writhe
I want to lick your pussy
Cap D'Agde 2012 Foam Party
Dirty Hot
Eighty-Five Minutes
Saying Goodnight
Hundreds of orgasms
our open marriage- mina's date
1+1+1= My first threesome
Writing Sex Scenes
Beginnings and Endings
Glass Bottle
One Cole the Dane + One WeVibe Salsa = Orgasm

 

Blogging

Epiphora's beginner’s guide to sex toy review
Very Inspiring Blogger Award

 

Eroticon

Erotic Eroticon
Finessing Sex- A Snippet Of Fiction
Eroticon Highlights
Bite Me

 

Poetry

In the Back Seat of the Bus
Transmogrification
Gelüste
Oiled Seduction

The Silence

In the silence
These lips form
Whispers
Kisses

In the silence
This touch is
Lightness
Being

In the silence
The body glows
Passion
Hope
Memory

The sweet little x

There was a time when you would seal your whispered confessions, the passionate words of your lust, your farewells and goodbyes with a kiss, with a cross, with a sweet little x.

But once it disappeared from sight, once that sweet little x ceased to be, I knew things had changed; I knew we would never be the same. I knew the hint of affection you cradled tentatively in your palm had been lost, had faded forever away.

Slither

Lashes flutter with its first slithering caress, shrouding my gaze, plunging this body into the merciless ache, compelling me to traverse the cruel space between us, to reach willingly, to yield wantonly to the hands now passionately cupping my breasts, the fingers delicately edging away the lace, the tips tracing the sliver of light snaking its way to the smoothness of my sex, the lips brushing, kissing, suckling the crown of each proud peak, the naked cock impatient for a taste of my heat, the naked cock thrusting, stroking, surging inside me, the naked cock gripped by the force of my climax, the naked cock at one with the shuddering flood of my most intimate flesh.

Nightfall

The night falls.

And with it her heart, her body, her soul, each descending into the depths, into a darkness few seek and fewer still comprehend, into the yearning to be filled, fucked, to be taken, possessed as his equal, overcome by his passionate dominance, into the desire to be bound with the silk that even now hangs about his neck, into the need for the touch absolute, the caress that engraves his name on her skin, into the voice that ignites, soothes, assures her she has found her home in him.