So I spent as much of today writing as I could. Managed a nice 2250 words or so, started the smutty part of the Country Girl piece I started yesterday, and have yet to figure out a real title for the Pornography piece I intend to sell on Amazon, as well. But I feel more productive than I have in a week, and I feel happy about what I’m doing, too. After all, I don’t mind writing erotica. In fact, I really enjoy it. A lot. It’s fun to write, and if I somehow manage to make a few bucks doing it for the time being, even better!

I will share with you a snippet from Country Girl (I have dubbed the piece that in my head, but that so isn’t the title for it, I swear). The fact that it’s m/f smut, too, with me playing with voice, and just having fun and not being serious in general is a little weird for me, but I like it. The snippet:


“Now, I ain’t sayin’ that,” Johnathan remarks, leanin’ in close. He smells like earth just after it rains. “I wouldn’t mind gettin’ to know you in ‘that’ way, but I ain’t gonna force you or nothin’. I’d rather treat you right. Know those boys at school weren’t all that kind to you. Even so…” he trails off and sighs, a heavy breath of air. “I don’t think you’re interested in me that way.”

My face must be on fire again just as the thunder outside grows louder. The lights flicker again, plungin’ us into a deep darkness that lasts, this time. It spares me from embarrassment for a moment. “You got any candles in here?” I ask, pushing myself away from the couch. “I got a feelin’ we’re gonna be needin’ ‘em for a while.”

“There’re some upstairs,” he says, and I hear him shufflin’ to his feet. I’m already makin’ my way to the stairs when he crashes into me. The two of us tumble to the ground, just as the storm outside grows louder, soundin’ more and more like a twister by the minute.

‘Cept I don’t wanna spare a moment thinkin’ ‘bout the worsening weather, not when Johnathan’s smashed up against me, our limbs tangled worse than the branches of an old withered tree. He’s squarely between my legs, his head on my chest and one hand pinnin’ my shoulder to the ground.

That warmth from earlier courses through me all over again, makin’ it difficult to breathe. Or maybe that’s his weight, but he ain’t all that heavy. It’s almost pleasant, having him pressed against me like this.

“You — gonna get up?” I manage after a while. I ain’t ‘bout to admit it, but I want him to stay right where he is. Like earlier, find my hips movin’ just a tiny bit on their own, an’ the warmth spreads from between my legs and into my belly.

“Depends,” Johnathan answers, shiftin’ his weight so that he’s on his hands and knees. He towers over me, that earthy smell of his stronger than ever. “D’ya really want me to?”